


Some Things Are Meant to Endure

by DarkLadyAthara



Series: The Ladies of Lord of the Rings [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, Caras Galadhon, Elves, F/M, Family, Finding Family, Golden Wood, Helm's Deep, Lothlórien, Middle Earth, Mirkwood, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Rivendell | Imladris, Rohan, Romance, Siblings, War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 80,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkLadyAthara/pseuds/DarkLadyAthara
Summary: A Lord of the Rings FanFictionThe only daughter of a King who had lost his Queen and the beloved younger sister of a Prince, Aeslin had grown up in the heart of the Woodland Realm. But given her mother's death in battle when she was but a young elfling, very little was more important to King Thranduil and his son Legolas than her safety. Not only had she never set foot beyond the borders of the Greenwood, she'd rarely left the confines of her Father's Court. For all that she was the most precious thing in the lives of her only family, Aeslin grew up the sad child of a dark forest.But with the Greenwood was growing ever darker, Thranduil found himself with a hard choice before him. Fearing for the safety of his youngest child should she stay within the borders of a Kingdom coming to be known as 'Mirkwood', the Elven King made a decision that would change his daughter's life forever. Aeslin had always had a talent for healing, so he decided to send her to Rivendell to learn from Elrond as every great elven healer had done for centuries. There she learns not only the arts of healing, but finds another family, and indeed, eventually finds love.***Same 'Story-verse' as "A Warrior's Heart"





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I will only post a single disclaimer, and it is this: This story is based almost solely on Peter Jackson's Film versions of the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, though I have drawn some inspiration and information (as I saw fit) from the work of the masterful Tolkien. So if something is 'wrong', don't flame please; I am not aiming for canon, but enjoyment.
> 
> I only own my tweaks and my characters. If they weren't in the movies (or in some cases the books) I made them up. 
> 
> This story is also posted on Fanfiction.net and Wattpad under the same title and pen- name.

The carnage; the pure, unadulterated carnage. It was shocking and nauseating. It was horrible and repulsive and beyond anything she could have ever imagined. Nothing in her extensive training as a healer could have prepared her for this. It was an abomination. It wounded her deeply to see and feel so much death, especially when her efforts to staunch the loss of life seemed to make little difference. She couldn't think anymore, she just acted. Her slender hands flew over gaping wounds and her voice wove incessant incantations of healing. But no matter what she did, few looked like they would survive the night, and many died under her touch despite her efforts to save them. Several times over the last traumatic day and night she felt gentle yet persistent hands try to pull her away while familiar and unfamiliar voices alike urged her to rest.

However, it didn't matter anymore that her hands were stained red from the blood of dozens, even hundreds of nameless men, nor did it matter that her voice was beginning to grow hoarse from the endless stream of words coming from her lips. She didn't feel tired. She didn't even feel the horror anymore. She didn't feel anything. She was numb. This is what she had trained to do, and so she continued to fight a battle that was equally as desperate as one fought with arrows and swords. It was all she could do now.

It was all she had left to offer.


	2. Chapter 1

**One Kind of Ending**

There was no doubt it was late, even in the black forests of Mirkwood, where the light rarely penetrated the foliage above even amid midday. Somehow in the heart of the night the darkness of the forest was deeper and the quiet was punctuated only by the natural sound of the deep forest. But the forests of Mirkwood could never be deemed sleepy, even when the night reigned supreme and most sentient beings had retreated to their beds and the dreams that awaited them there. Mirkwood was definitely different. Even so, most of its inhabitants had allowed for the festivities to wane and for thoughts of deep slumber to enter their minds. Few were still awake, and one in particular was loath to be But then again, she was also afraid to sleep.

As was typical for any elf living within the borders of Mirkwood, Aeslin, the youngest child of the King, moved silently through the trees, easily navigating through the meandering corridors that connected the living spaces of the Royal Court. She knew her route by heart so her steps never faltered despite her troubled state of mind. Within moments she had reached her destination and, silent as a shadow, slipped through the doorway. Gliding across the room, she hesitated at the side of the bed for the briefest moment before sliding beneath the sheets next to its already sleeping occupant, positioning herself on her side with her back touching his. She felt some of her anxiety ebb at the contact and forced herself to relax.

"Aren't you a little old for this?" came a voice fighting the pull of sleep. Aeslin sighed, a frown creasing her pale brow. She had been sure he was asleep. She heard him roll over and prop himself up to face her. Turning, she found herself looking into the reprimanding blue eyes of her older brother. She was tempted to make a biting remark in effort to disguise her fear, but despite Legolas' comforting presence, her stomach was still knotted with anxiety. She thought she had been hiding it well enough, but evidently, it was pronounced enough that her brother noticed.

"What worries you little one? It has been a long time since you've felt the need to come to my room in the middle of the night. Is it tomorrow? Is that what troubles you?" Now she did get defensive.

"I am not such a little one anymore, brother. I have already lived through my third century and I am nearly upon my fourth. I am about to leave in the morning to further my studies as a healer, just as I have always wanted. I am no longer so little as you still suppose." Even in the dark, she could tell he was raising a skeptical eyebrow at her. He knew her too well. She sighed. "Yes. Tomorrow is what worries me." Legolas didn't say a word, but instead pulled his little sister into his arms, hugging her close. It was a long time before he spoke. He sensed that she just needed the comfort; after all, what was coming had been her decision – mostly.

The instant their Father had realized the extent of her gift of healing he had schemed to somehow whisk her away from the increasing dangers growing in Mirkwood. Especially after the loss of their mother shortly after Aeslin's birth he had planned for something like this, subsequently prodding Aeslin towards a future as a healer at the emergence of her gifts. Of course, any healer of note journeyed to further their knowledge under Lord Elrond in Rivendell, especially if one had the potential that the young princess of Mirkwood possessed. Besides, Imladris was far away from the multitude of dangers that inhabited the dark forests of Mirkwood.

After Legolas's birth, his mother hadn't really considered having another child. Eventually though, she began to wish for another, but after many long years she began to wonder if she'd ever conceive again. Many more years passed, turning into decades and then centuries, but she was eventually gifted with a daughter. Queen Lasbereth was ecstatic, and King Thranduil shared in her joy. However, the love they bore their long awaited daughter was soon joined by the overwhelming concern for her safety; Mirkwood was by no means a safe place. Even the heart of the Woodland Court was not free of danger.

And then tragedy had struck, and Lasbereth fell in battle against the Gundabad Orcs when Aeslin had reached barely more than half a century. The loss of his wife and her tempering influence changed Thranduil, and soon Aeslin's resemblance to Lasbereth compounded his already intense fears for her safety. Aeslin and Legolas were all he had left of his wife. So, ignoring the heaviness in his heart, the King decided that fostering Aeslin in another realm would be far safer than allowing her to stay in Mirkwood. His decision was something Legolas grudgingly agreed with. He loved Aeslin dearly and had gladly served as her protector all her life. As such, he hated the prospect of parting from her.

"You will be fine, little one. Rivendell is a wonderful place, and I am sure you will be happy there. Lord Elrond is a fine teacher and you are sure to become a powerful healer." As he spoke his words of encouragement, Legolas could feel Aeslin's slight frame relax and her breathing slow as the anxiety began to bleed from her body again. "You truly have nothing to fear, dear one."

It wasn't long after that he was assured she was asleep. For a long moment he fought with himself over whether or not to return her to her own chambers, but he finally decided against it. It wasn't exactly a decision that his Father would condone. He hadn't even approved when she was a tiny elfling, distant and proud as he had become. Legolas didn't care though. Aeslin was his baby sister, his only sister. She had learned early in her young life that she could always go to him when she felt alone or scared.

Besides, he was going to miss her too.

* * *

So it was that the next morning Aeslin began her journey to Rivendell in the company of her elder brother and a small escort of elves. There was no fanfare to send her off and little in the way of pomp, save from the King of Mirkwood. He saw her off, but as per usual, his affection and sorrow was severely limited by his strict sense of pride. It simply would not do to indulge in a show of emotions. Thranduil was far too grand for that. He needed to set an example of strength and perseverance. Sending his daughter away was the logical thing to do when her safety was in question; a decision his repressed emotions fought against. Nevertheless, he bid her farewell while privately his heart fought against a tide of sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him as his wife's death had. Yet that sorrow never graced his features as Aeslin turned her face from him and left behind the only home she knew.


	3. Chapter 2

**One Kind of Beginning**

In all consideration of the length and breadth of Middle Earth, the distance to Rivendell was not terribly great at all. Still, it seemed a very great distance to Aeslin, since she'd never strayed far from the place of her birth. Nevertheless, it was not terribly long until the small party had breached the Forest Gate on the western edge of Mirkwood and began to make their way south to the Old Ford that provided passage over the Anduin. Once across, the road led directly through the Misty Mountains to Rivendell.

The closer they came to the edge of the forest, the more light came to pierce the expanse of foliage over their heads until the blackness above turned to green and the sun painted mottled golden designs on the forest floor. The fear and uncertainty that gripped Aeslin since her departure from the Court of her Father was temporarily forgotten when her mount stepped out of the shadow cast by the Great Trees around her. Beyond the Forest was a vast landscape, the likes of which the young elf had never seen. She had certainly imagined what treeless, grass-covered plains might look like, but her vision could not compare to the openness and light. The Forest dwindled to grassland and in the distance her elf-eyes caught the glimmer of the Great River as it cut its way across the landscape. Above her, the sky was the purest blue and was nearly painful to gaze upon, while in the North a light blanket of translucent clouds grazed the horizon.

It was beyond anything Aeslin could've dreamed. She truly loved the forest, and the life contained within it, but the freedom of the air was new to her and without thinking, she began to breathe deeper, reveling in the sweet scents that drifted along with the breeze that played across her skin. Legolas watched with a bemused patience. Venturing beyond the boundaries of Mirkwood for the first time, centuries ago, had caused him to pause in much the same way, as it did most other young elves that travelled beyond their Kingdom.

Before long, the moment had passed, and the small band continued on, though the wonder that captivated its youngest member did not abandon her for a long time.

As elves travel faster than other folk and are capable of travelling night and day for days on end, the River Anduin was reached and crossed in half the time a man might take. The mountains were similarly conquered; though the progress was slowed in the more treacherous passes that cut through them. The entire way Aeslin was constantly enthralled and mesmerized by the ever-changing landscape that presented itself the farther they travelled from Mirkwood. Her keen blue eyes drank in every detail, though the journey seemed to drag into monotony for some of the others. That did not dim the worry that arose as they crossed the mountains, though. Each and every eye was watchful, Legolas' especially so. The threat of Goblin and Orc attack was a pervasive fear, and every elf in the party was relieved to reach the western foothills of the mountains.

It was then that the fear and anxiety began to creep back into Aeslin's heart. The closer they got to Elrond's Last Homely House, the farther she was from home, and the farther she would be from her protector when he departed. She held no illusions that Legolas would stay. She knew very well that he was needed at home, and that he had been charged with seeing her safely to Imladris, nothing more. She also knew her duty; she would not betray her fear.

When at last their destination came into sight, Aeslin could not contain a gasp of surprise. Bathed in the soft golden light of afternoon, nestled among cliffs and trees and waterfalls, stood Rivendell, and within it, her fate. As the small party climbed to the main gate, Aeslin, though still caught up in wonder, fought to restrain the panic that began to well within her. Even the reassuring gaze of her brother did little to assuage the feeling. As the horses clattered into the courtyard, Aeslin caught the first glimpse of her new home, and the elf who was to be her teacher.

In anticipation of their arrival, Elrond and a small group of Rivendell elves stood waiting in the shaded courtyard. As Legolas and the rest of the Mirkwood party pulled up their horses and dismounted, Aeslin froze atop her mare, trying to look anywhere but at Lord Elrond, lest he see the fear in her eyes and mistake it for anything else. She was certainly grateful to become his pupil, but at the moment she felt little but anxiety. She was forced to abandon her attempts to calm herself when Legolas appeared at her knee, and, with a gentle, guiding touch, helped her down from her mount. His questioning eyes met hers for a moment before he placed her hand on his arm and led her toward Lord Elrond.

The Master Healer was tall, and though his skin and eyes were pale, his long hair was the darkest she'd ever seen. However, that was not what struck her most. His smile as she approached was kind, and his gray eyes were gentle and full of wisdom. Though it did not dissipate the apprehension that pounded in her chest, his calm gaze did a lot to set her at ease. As Aeslin and her brother approached, Elrond opened his arms in welcome.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Legolas, son of Thranduil, and to you, Aeslin, daughter of Lasbereth, and to your fellow Elves of the Woodland Realm. You are welcome in my Halls for as long as you need respite." Bringing his hands forward to make the traditional gesture of welcome, Elrond inclined his head first toward Legolas and then to Aeslin, upon whom his gray eyes came to rest. "We are indeed fortunate that you are to stay with us, child. Your talent is promising, and I am delighted to have gained another student." Stepping aside, he reached out, beckoning them forward to accompany him inside. Inclining his own head in acceptance, Legolas lead the way, Aeslin still clinging to his arm.

They were led to a magnificent dining hall, where they all sat down to sup, joined by the other pupils and residents of Rivendell. Aeslin was grateful to be seated next to her brother, but the proximity of her seat to Lord Elrond was verging on unsettling. It was not so much fear that plagued her anymore, but nervousness. This man was to be her mentor in the arts of healing, and already she was anxious to be a worthy student. No matter the kindness of his smile, the power and assured demeanor of Elrond was overwhelming to the young elf.

Over the course of the dinner, Aeslin remained all but silent while conversation flew around her. Legolas already knew Elrond and his two sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and talked readily with them. Aeslin was not so familiar, but if she was addressed, she answered, even if her voice was soft. At one point she looked up to see one of Elrond's sons gazing at her with a faint expression of amusement. She frowned, wondering what he could possibly find so funny. As if responding to her thoughts, the brother, Elrohir, leaned forward.

"Are you always so serious, little one?" Irritation flared briefly within her at his offhanded mention of her youth. Legolas, hearing the query, suppressed the urge to both laugh at his little sister's expression and to speak up in her stead. He knew, though, that she needed to begin to carve herself a place here, and that required her to speak for herself.

"I am not so young that I cannot be serious. To the contrary, I am quite old enough to be here, and have no intention of taking this opportunity lightly. I have a purpose here, and have not journeyed all this way for frivolity." Legolas stifled a laugh, while Elrond leaned back in his chair, his own amusement playing across his features. Elladan joined in on his brother's questioning, taking advantage of Aeslin's newfound boldness.

"But surely, you should be taking advantage of the opportunity for frivolity. Such an expression of seriousness should not grace the features of one so young." Aeslin flushed at the comment, both out of ire and embarrassment. When she spoke, her voice, though obviously betraying her annoyance, also reflected her unease.

"I am sure frivolity is all well and good, but I am here to learn, not to play as you seem to think I intend, based solely on my youth. I am more mature than you seem to give me credit for." Elladan smiled widely, while Elrohir chuckled.

"Is that declaration not an indication of your youth in itself? Usually one does not try to make another see them as older unless they are too young for their bearing to reveal it in time." Aeslin's flush deepened as she realized what she had been doing. She was mortified that she had let them bait her as if she were a child. She hastily held back a retort. Elrond, seeing the depths of her discomfort, could not help but smile at the innocence of her reactions and the spirit that briefly made an appearance.

"I do believe you have had your fun, my sons. But if you tease my pupil any further I shall have to demonstrate just how young you are yourselves. Trust me, you don't want me relating any of your youthful blunders, now would you." He turned to Aeslin, "I'm afraid my sons are even more guilty of immaturity than they charge you to be, despite their advantage in age." With an indulgent smile still on his face, Elrond watched as his sons chuckled at his gentle chiding, hiding their disappointment at the end of their fun. Aeslin, on the other hand, looked relieved that they were no longer teasing her and even relaxed a bit, the flush fading from her cheeks.

By the end of the evening, she wasn't quite so dour as she had been when she sat down, her gestures becoming more animated and her features more lively. Eventually though, the lateness of the evening began to tell, and the whole of the Mirkwood party began to display their exhaustion. Standing, Elrond formally brought the evening to an end, dismissing the Rivendell residents and inviting his guests to retire to the guest quarters prepared for them. Then, he gestured for Aeslin to follow him, showing her to her new quarters himself. He could tell from the cast of her expression that she was exhausted from not only her journey, but also from the emotional strain her situation was causing.

He opened the door to her chambers, motioning her inside before gently pointing out important features of the room, like how the bedroom was beyond the small, private sitting room they passed through, where her belongings had been placed and where she could wash up. Aeslin was barely listening, and in a corner of her mind she was a little bewildered that Lord Elrond had taken it upon himself to see to her comfort. Almost without realizing it, she sat down on the edge of the elegantly decorated bed. In her exhaustion, her control of her emotions began to loosen, and Elrond could see the anxieties of her journey written on her face.

"You can sleep in ease, Aeslin. You have nothing to fear here. Your brother will remain until you are settled, and I am sure that your uncertainties will prove to be unfounded." Aeslin nodded mutely in acknowledgement, not trusting her voice as relief flowed through her. With a few words, Lord Elrond had struck at the heart of her anxieties, easing them. With a heartfelt wish for a peaceful sleep, Elrond departed, leaving the young elf alone in a room that suddenly seemed too large and altogether too empty.

Despite the way sleep called to her, Aeslin felt the need to survey her quarters as a means to calm her mind. The open-air sitting room she had passed through was on the smaller side, but it provided a comfortable place where she could receive visitors and attend to her studies. The candlelight flickered upon the nature motifs and statuary that seemed to adorn the whole of Rivendell. A cabinet on the westward facing wall held several books that were all encased in modest but beautiful leather bindings. Aeslin couldn't resist and brushed her fingers against the spines before moving on back into the bedroom.

On the far side of the bedroom, rather predictably, was the bed, clothed in ochre and pale green covers and pillows with a large, tree-motif designed headboard and a cloth draped chest at the foot. On each side of the bed, matching side-tables sat with potted greenery and delicate candleholders. On one side was a wall, against which a wardrobe and matching vanity, covered in cleverly carved vine-work, rested. Opposite was a large view of the vista that Rivendell overlooked, framed by an intricately carved arch and built-in statuary, complete with a lavishly cushioned divan from which to experience the extensive view of the landscape. Almost completely open to the outside, like the sitting room, she noticed she was on one of the higher levels, able to look over the roofs of the other buildings. More than that, she was able to see the sky. She could only look out in awe at the glorious multitude of stars that shone across the sky. Never had she seen anything so beautiful. A handful of times she had seen glimpses of the stars through the thick canopy of Mirkwood, and she had heard others tell of the clear night sky beyond the trees, but never had she dreamed that it would like this.

Settling herself among the scarlet and crimson pillows, Aeslin felt sleep break upon her like a wave, engulfing her. It wasn't long before her eyes closed, shutting out the stars that twinkled and gleamed overhead.


	4. Chapter 3

**Another Dawn Among Many**

It was on the divan overlooking the Hidden Valley that Legolas found his little sister the following morning, curled up on the seat, the bed forgotten. The morning light streamed into the room from the multitude of windows around the room, bathing Aeslin in sunshine. Legolas couldn't help but be impressed by the Lord Elrond's choice of quarters for his sister. Growing up in Mirkwood under the overly protective eye of their father, especially since she was too young to remember it as the Greenwood, Aeslin had rarely, if ever, truly seen the sun in all of her near three hundred years. This room was perfect, for he could think of nothing Aeslin would love more than to be woken by the first rays of the morning sun and to bask in its warmth throughout the day. The view alone was breathtaking. Even now, as he approached her sleeping form, she was stirring as the first rays of sun fell across her face.

The first attempt to open her eyes was met with little success, as the light was too bright, causing Aeslin to squeeze her lids closed again. Eventually, blinking rapidly, she managed to adjust to the sunlight streaming through the archway, only to focus on Legolas sitting at her feet. He sat very still, gazing out at the valley that lay before Rivendell.

With little in the way of words, the siblings wished each other a good morning before Legolas retreated to the sitting room, allowing Aeslin to prepare herself for the day. Shedding her well-worn travel clothes, she stood in her shift before the wardrobe, suddenly struck with uncertainty once again. What exactly was appropriate attire for her situation? She was a guest, but also Lord Elrond's pupil and a Princess of the Woodland Realm. Was she expected to adhere to a certain level of dress or was she free to wear what she pleased?

Throwing a robe around herself, Aeslin turned to the latticed table next to the door and poured out some fresh, clear water into the basin. After splashing a bit of water on her face, she dried her hands on the cloth next to the basin. Turning, she noticed the chest at the foot of her bed. Moving the cloth and the candleholder aside, she opened the chest to find several gowns, robes and other clothing items, all of which seemed perfectly chosen for her. After a few moments of perusing the options and debating whether or not she should pull one out to wear, Aeslin finally pulled a pale blue gown out from among the others and slipped into it, quickly doing up the lacings and pulling darker blue robe over that. After securing a silver embroidered girdle around her hips, she felt she was ready to face her new life.

Joining her brother outside, the young elf was led to the same hall where they had dined the night before. Breakfast was already served, and as Aeslin came to learn, the morning meal was not a formal affair and that everyone came and went as they pleased. It was there that Legolas and Aeslin met up with Elladan. With a smile that was far gentler than his teasing one the night previous, he bid the two wood-elves to join him. Aeslin couldn't help but eye him warily.

"You are suspicious of me, Aeslin of Mirkwood." Elladan's eyes sparkled as he spoke. Legolas restrained his own smile as his little sister flushed, but having rested her spirits were bolstered since last night.

"A little, Master Elladan. How could I not be for the way you and your brother have treated me thus far?" Elladan chuckled, drawing a small smile from Aeslin.

"I suppose there is truth to what you say."

"Of course there is."

"Then I shall make it up to you, Milady. I would be honoured if you would permit me to introduce you to my home." This time Aeslin did smile, her pale blue eyes lit with amusement.

"I would be honoured for you to do so." She turned to Legolas, who was watching the exchange with an amused silence. In answer to the silent question in her eyes, Legolas graciously demurred to join them, earning a flicker of panic that played across her features. Still, once they had all broken their fast, Aeslin allowed herself to be led away by Elladan.

Over the course of the day, Elrond's son showed her around Imladris, pointing out the Library, Elrond's Study, the Wing of Healing, the Hall of Fire, the gardens, even the stables and the mews. All around them the sun shone, illuminating the grounds and glistening off the streams and rivers that flowed around them. By the time the sun's last golden rays disappeared behind the cliffs that guarded Rivendell, Aeslin was nearly as well acquainted with Rivendell as she was with the Court of Mirkwood. As darkness settled around them, Legolas and Elrohir joined them, and together they made their way to dinner.

* * *

After a few weeks had passed, Aeslin was forced to bid her brother farewell. It was far harder than she had anticipated, but she had little choice but to concede it was time. Settling into Rivendell had become easier with familiarity and the meeting of new friends like Elrond's sons. Nevertheless, Aeslin was hard pressed to keep her feelings in check as Legolas gave her one final embrace before mounting his horse.

Coming to stand at his knee, Aeslin couldn't withhold the tear that escaped onto her cheek. Seeing this, Legolas reached down, brushing it away.

"Do not be sad. It will not be so long before I see you again, little sister. Until then, you have a great deal to learn. I know you will make us proud, Aeslin. You do not need to fear about that." Aeslin responded with a weak smile. It was all she could manage in the face of the loneliness she felt growing in her heart. He was all she had. Sure, she had her Father as well, but he was distant, even cold at times. She had never known the same warmth and affection from him that she had from her brother, except in the earliest of her memories, when her mother had still been with them.

With one final farewell, Legolas turned his horse towards the gate and urged him forward, followed closely by the rest of the party that had brought Aeslin to Rivendell. This time, Aeslin managed to keep her tears in check as she watched her brother disappear around the bend in the road. She didn't turn when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing it was Elladan. After a moment, she lifted her gaze to his and, seeing the sympathy there, had to look away again. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice low and soothing.

"It does get better, little one. You never cease to miss your family, but it does become easier to bear." Aeslin took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her control as he spoke. "Every time I have delivered my own little sister to Lorien, I have felt the same pain of parting that you know now. You learn to bear it with grace, but it will never go away." Aeslin turned to look at him again, managing a faint smile in gratitude for his understanding and his admission.

Perhaps she wasn't going to be as alone as she had feared.

* * *

So it was that Aeslin began her training under Lord Elrond. At first she struggled with the expectations he placed on her, bringing back her previous fears and anxieties for a time. He had her start with learning about the intricacies of the body and the more mundane means of healing; the ways men and other non-magic folk tended to injury and health. The former she could understand, but the latter she could not comprehend in the slightest. She found this frustrating to no end, not understanding his methodology. Soon her frustration began to get the better of her.

After nearly a decade under Elrond's tutelage, she'd had enough, and demanded he explain the purpose of learning such things. Never before had she seen Elrond frown the way he did that day. It was the closest she'd ever seen him to being angry, and it sent a slight tremor of panic through her. She held her ground though, keeping her expression of resolve fixed firmly on her features.

"There is a great deal more that you must learn to become a Healer of worth, young one. You cannot even begin to comprehend just how much. One day you may understand, but for now you will heed my lessons, and adhere to my methods." Elrond's voice was low and calm, but his words were sharp; their impact on the young elf before him was easily visible. With each syllable Aeslin tensed and the determined set of her features slowly gave way to one of shock and humiliation. Still, the set of her jaw was firm, and though he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes, she stoutly refused to let them fall. Elrond sighed, impressed at her spirit despite her obstinate demands.

"Our strength is not infinite, young one; especially at your age. We must build toward more advanced lessons. And should you ever find yourself weakening to the point where it would be dangerous to continue, you then have a means to still treat patients until you regain your strength, for, though more primitive, more mundane means of healing can be just as crucial and effective as our ways for saving a life. That is why you are here, to preserve life whenever possible." Finding herself mute under his chiding, Aeslin could only bow her head in acceptance. Taking another deep breath, Elrond dismissed her for the day, knowing the best thing for her right now was peace to think over what he'd said. Already, he could see the wheels of her mind turning, processing his words. Without another word, his pupil turned and whisked from the room, her pale skirts fluttering out of sight.

Aeslin did not slow her pace until she reached the gardens, and even then, she did not stop, but instead paced among the sweet-smelling flowers and pungent herbs. Thanks to her basic learning in herb-lore, she was now able to identify a great many of the plants and cite their uses. For a time that was what she tried to do to calm herself; list and review her growing knowledge of medicinal plants. Unfortunately, that only served to remind her of her ignorance; something Lord Elrond had so decisively brought to her attention. Finally her legs gave up on her mindless wandering, and she found herself sinking down among fragrant plants, her fingers wandering over the delicate sprays of leaves and soft, silken petals.

"There are more comfortable places to sit." Aeslin was disturbed from her musings by the voice of Elrohir. While the passage of a handful of years is of little notice to an elf, it had still proven plenty long enough for Aeslin to form a close bond with Lord Elrond's sons. They had endeavored to fill the void her brother's departure had left in Aeslin's heart, perhaps recognizing the familiar hollowness left by an absent sibling that is kept close to the heart. It was something she was sincerely grateful for. They had readily accepted her as something akin to a little sister, and she was growing to love them as if they were family also, something that had made her feel more at home in Rivendell than anything else. Elrohir, especially, had stepped up to become her companion during the last few years.

Aeslin could not help but laugh at his rather obvious observation, but any hint of mirth was drowned out by the melancholy she was currently wallowing in.

"Your father is displeased with me. I cannot understand his methods. I feel lost amid this sea of knowledge, and this dreadful feeling of inadequacy will not let me be. I know so very little. I can find no peace within myself anymore." The older elf lowered himself down beside her, turning his gaze to survey the garden around them. Honeybees danced among the blossoms and the afternoon sun bathed the garden with a golden warmth.

"You need to learn patience. That is something you lack in your youth." She stiffened beside him, hating that most of her flaws seemed to coincide directly with her age. "You don't like to be reminded of how young you are. That is abundantly clear. But it is something that will improve with time. Right now, you would be best served in learning to be patient." He reached out, turning her face to his, "not just with others, but with yourself. You expect too much, Aeslin. Centuries will pass before you acquire the breadth of knowledge you seek, and you have millennia and more to learn as you will." Now she did smile, despite the sting of his criticism. She knew very well that he only spoke of her faults to help her improve on them. Just for good measure though, she reached out and gave him a playful shove, letting him know she didn't intend to be bowed. Laughing, Elrohir got to his feet, reaching out a hand to help Aeslin to hers.

They began to walk back toward the main buildings, taking their time among the garden's tranquil beauty.


	5. Chapter 4

**New Arrivals and New Understandings**

As it has habit to do, time continued to pass, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye another decade had passed, and then another, and another until Aeslin found herself well into her fourth century. She graduated from the more mundane medicines and techniques a little over a decade into her studies, and had moved on to study the foundations of elvish medicine. Her knowledge of herb-lore grew exponentially as did her grasp of languages, both written and spoken. The Common tongue was the first she learned under the tutelage of Elrond's aide and advisor, Erestor, before expanding to learn other, less common ones.

Her promise in the arts of healing was extensive, and she devoured the books and texts both Elrond and Erestor placed before her. By the time she had been in Rivendell for just over a century, she was moving onto learning and understanding the more advanced details and intricacies of Elvish healing and medicine. But that only took up so much of her time. As Elrohir had suggested, she taught herself patience, eventually coming to accept that her quest for knowledge would take time, and that time was one thing she had in abundance.

Still, despite her newfound patience, she was hard-pressed to keep herself from anxiously awaiting news from Legolas and Mirkwood. Correspondence was scattered, and occasion for her brother to venture far from Mirkwood was even more rare. She had seen him once since her delivery to Rivendell, and it was entirely too short.

Then there came a morning when, upon rising and preparing for the day, Aeslin arrived in the dining hall only to realize Elladan and Elrohir were absent. It was not the first time she had arrived before them or after them, but there was something different about this occasion. The two of them had been distant and she had been seeing them less often as the weeks passed. Today was the culmination of a pattern.

After finishing her meal the young elf made her way to Elrond's study to begin her daily lessons. Entering what was, to her, a near hallowed space, the study was still cool in the early morning sun, and a great deal of the space was still dim. Still, it was a peaceful place of learning. Paper and books littered the space, while cabinets held wonderful and mysterious objects, each harking to a time and place long ago-for her at least. Today, however, she wasn't overly concerned with the contents of the room, but rather with what was absent. Normally Lord Elrond was already deeply engrossed with one thing or another, but today he was not. He was not even there. Content to wait until he arrived, Aeslin paced over to the terrace that adjoined her mentor's study. It was there that she waited, leaning against the archway that lead outside into the sun, but still covered by the shade of the terrace's roof.

She still stood there, nearly unmoving, when Elrond entered a short time later. At first, he took no notice. But, having a similar pale colouring as her brother, the shade did not conceal her the same way it would have had she been less fair. But as the sun had travelled across the sky, more of the terrace and the study came under it's revealing light. As Elrond entered his study, his attention was caught by the gleam of Aeslin's pale, nearly white, blonde hair in the morning sun. Unable to withhold a smile at the sight of his star pupil, Elrond went to stand beside her.

His sudden appearance startled Aeslin, though she gave no outward sign that he had done so. Turning her gaze to him, she noticed something was different. The skin around his eyes was tight, one of the few outward signs that he was anxious. Suddenly curious, her attention was soon focused solely on him. If Elrond noticed, he made no move to either confirm or deny her observation. Eventually, Aeslin let out a frustrated breath; unable to withstand her curiosity or discern anything that might explain what was going on. So, what better than a direct approach?

"Something is happening. Something that has you concerned and Elladan and Elrohir guarded. They are up to something, and it has you worried. Has it to do with the Dragon?" News had come in the last several years of a Dragon descending from the north to decimate the dwarf Kingdom of Erebor. It was common to hear those around her whispering of the implications of such a thing about Imladris, especially when the constant stream of visitors brought new whispers and thoughts. A hint of a smile appeared on Elrond's face at her boldness. Looking over, he met the pale eyes that were fixed on his face.

"My sons travel to Lothlorien. In fact, they left this very morning." Surprise flitted quickly across the young elf's features, followed quickly by hurt before she looked away.

"What occasion should cause them to go there?" Her mind worked quickly, despite the obvious sting Elladan and Elrohir's sudden and wordless departure had caused, "has it to do with your daughter?" Again Elrond had occasion to smile at her quickness.

"Indeed. She is to travel home, to stay in Rivendell for a time."

"You miss her, and yet you worry about her journey."

"Yes, that I do. There is no shortage of risks along the way, especially in the mountains." That Aeslin knew all too well. On her own journey to Imladris, the passage through the Misty Mountains had caused their little party no small amount of caution. She also knew that Elrond's wife has been attacked and wounded in the mountain pass a long time ago, and that her own mother had met her death in those same mountains, albeit a great deal farther north. No matter the elation Elrond may feel at the imminent return of his daughter, the worry for the safety of his children overshadowed that joy.

"Elladan and Elrohir are fine warriors. They will have little trouble, I'm sure." The words were soft and touched with sadness, and before Elrond could respond, Aeslin had stepped out into the sun before gliding down the stairs and out of sight, leaving him standing alone on the terrace.

* * *

Nearly a month passed after the conversation in Elrond's study, and neither he nor Aeslin had brought up the topic again. He could see the sadness building within her again, and she often took to spending her spare hours on high terraces and the bridges of Imladris. What she was looking or waiting for, Elrond wasn't certain. At first, he thought perhaps she was waiting for his sons to return, but as time passed, he became unsatisfied with that conclusion. Either way, her studies continued and, while she continued to progress, it was slowed.

Her skills had long since progressed to the point where, if the occasion presented itself, Elrond would allow her to assist in healing any injured who came to Rivendell. While it didn't happen often, there was opportunity enough. As it was, her natural talent came to the fore in these instances more often than not. It was enough to impress Elrond greatly, leading him to push her further and increase her workload. At first, Aeslin strained under the pressure, struggling to keep up to the standard that Elrond was setting.

Eventually she had adjusted, and grew in the process, becoming more efficient, more focused and able to tune out everything around her. Every skill and technique Elrond taught her she endeavored to master with single-minded determination. Such was her drive to master her art that in the almost a century and a half she had thus far been in Rivendell, she had progressed farther than many of students of healing did in nearly double that time.

She also became more persistent in her other lessons, as well as when she was called upon to heal. This caused some worry for Elrond. Every elf had a limit to his or her strength. Despite the considerable knowledge she possessed for her age, Aeslin was still quite young and, as a result, still inexperienced. She still had a lot to learn about her own limits. Because of this, her strength was far less than that of a more mature healer, despite her admirable control and breadth of knowledge; it was something she seemed unwilling to grasp.

Luckily the situations they had encountered had been relatively minor, but on one occasion, she had very nearly done damage to herself in effort to heal an elf wounded by goblins; Elrond had been forced to pull her away, she had gotten so weak. Pale as she naturally was, she did not have much colour to lose, but her skin took on a grayish cast, frightening Elrond soundly. After that he kept a much closer watch over his pupil. She had become very dear to him as time passed, as dear as if she were his own daughter, and he had all but adopted her into his family as his sons had done.

But now he wondered if that bond was threatened. Aeslin, though showing no true outward signs of a change of regard for Elrond, was more distant than she had been for a long while. The true test would be upon the return of his children. That was what he figured was at the heart of her despondency. She was afraid of being alone again; she was jealous of his daughter for being able to come home to her family; she was beginning to wonder if she had only been a surrogate to Elladan, Elrohir and even Elrond. He could not be sure, but in his heart he felt he was right.

It was midday, and Aeslin had completed her day's work and had wandered up to the highest balcony off the largest of Rivendell's buildings. From there she could see everything. She looked down on the rooftops of the other structures and out over the waterfalls and the cliffs that guarded the small realm of her mentor. She had cleared her mind of just about every thought that came to her, putting some of her training to good use. Distraction was never a boon to a healer, after all. Separating herself from her thoughts had been a difficult task at first, but now that she had nearly mastered the skill, she was incredibly pleased with the results. It allowed her respite from the troubling turn her thoughts were taking. She knew she should be happy for her friends here in Rivendell; their daughter and sister was coming home. Yet, she couldn't seem to bring herself to feel anything but jealousy and remorse.

More than ever, she missed her family, especially Legolas. He always knew what to do and what to say to ease her sadness. The more she thought about it, in fact, the more she came to realize that she had been the sad child of a dark forest, and Legolas had been her ray of sunshine. Now, here she was, basking in the light of midday, and the only thing she wanted was the sunny presence of her older brother. Shaking her head, she pushed her melancholic thoughts away, banishing them as far away as she could; but they still lingered like a shadow over her mind.

It was then that her sharp eyes spotted the riders approaching on the far side of the valley, coming up fast to the bridge that guarded the entrance to Rivendell. Her heart suddenly pounding in her chest, she watched as they came closer and closer before turning and hastily making her way to the main courtyard by the entrance.

She slowed her pace as she reached the final stairway down to the main levels of Rivendell, smoothing her shimmering ochre skirts as she passed under the last arch into the sunlight. Already, most of Rivendell's inhabitants had gathered to welcome their fellows home. Elrond especially looked ecstatic as he stood at the head of the main group, his advisor Erestor standing close behind him. Uncertainty gripped her as she surveyed the gathered elves. She was not family, but she believed she was reasonably close enough to stand by her mentor. But neither was she Elrond's only student. There were always several other elves in residence at Rivendell to learn from Master Elrond, though she was soon to be the student who had lived there longest, if she wasn't already.

Before she could fix on a decision, Erestor spotted her standing in the shadows and discreetly motioned her over to the main gathering.

Shielding her surprise behind her perfectly schooled expression of calm, she circled around the courtyard, joining the group as silently as possible. As she did, the clattering of hooves signaled that the troupe of riders were crossing the bridge, and indeed, moments later, five riders passed under the archway into the main courtyard of Rivendell.

Elrohir was in the lead, with a staggeringly beautiful elf-maid off his flank. Behind them came two other Rivendell elves with Elladan at the rear. The instant they came into sight, Elrond beamed, nearly rushing forward. As it was, the lady was down from her horse in an instant, rushing into the arms her father. Aeslin couldn't help but avert her eyes; the moment was too private to intrude, despite the dozens of other elves present. It also dredged up memories of parting from her own family, and the lack of affection shown by her own father. Elrond was the opposite as he held his long absent daughter close, his emotions clearly written upon his face. He was glad to see her, and relieved that his children were safe. As his two sons approached, he ended the embrace, though his daughter remained tucked under his arm. He clapped each of his sons on the shoulder in turn, first Elrohir, then Elladan, whom he asked about the journey.

As Elladan related the events of their trip to Elrond, Elrohir scanned the gathered elves, his gray eyes stopping on Aeslin. With a reserved smile on his face, he came forward to stand before her. They just stood there for a long moment, each gauging the other. That Aeslin had been hurt by the brothers' sudden departure without so much as a goodbye was evident to Elrohir, and that he regretted the choice nearly as soon as they had left was clear to the elf-maid in front of him. So it was that neither had to say anything. Aeslin's grin shone through her serious expression as the sun breaks through the clouds, and she stepped forward to draw him into a hug. She had missed them both, but Elrohir had come closest to her heart since she came to live among them.

Breaking the embrace after a moment, the two of them walked up to Elrond and his two other children. By now the courtyard had mostly emptied, most of the elves conveying their welcome with their presence alone. Detaching himself from his father and sister, Elladan also stepped forward to embrace Aeslin, whispering his apology to her. Without hesitation she brushed it aside, saying she was glad only that they had returned. It was then that their sister stepped forward. Aeslin turned her attention to the lovely elf, giving a small curtsey to be safe; after all, though Aeslin was a Princess of Mirkwood, she was not the granddaughter of the Lady of Light, which brought respect in its own right. Aeslin earned a smile and a graceful nod in acknowledgement.

"You must be Aeslin of Mirkwood. My brothers have told me a great deal about you. You seem to have captured their hearts since you arrived." Aeslin felt a flush rise to her cheeks, but stood tall anyway, pushing aside her self-consciousness.

"I am honoured by their affection, Arwen of Rivendell, but it cannot compare to the love they bear you, for they speak most highly of you as well." Arwen's smiled grew, her gray eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Perhaps it is, then, that they have a tendency to exaggerate," she teased gently, shooting her twin brothers a mischievous glance. Aeslin could not help but laugh.

"That is indeed possible, but I am inclined to believe them thus far," Aeslin replied. Elrohir huffed in mock indignation.

"We have spoken only the truth, little sister, as our sweet elfling has wisely noted." Aeslin turned her startled gaze to the brother, as an obviously well used term of endearment-that she herself had never heard before-passed his lips. Elrond laughed, reminding them all that he was still standing among them.

"And I am inclined to believe that you are all prone to teasing one another. Indeed, some things never change." For an instant his face grew sad, but in a blink it was gone, replaced with enjoyment and amusement. Though Aeslin caught this, she paid it little mind, happy in the reassurance that she was not to be forgotten with Arwen's arrival.

* * *

It was clear from the beginning that Arwen and Aeslin were destined to become fast friends. The fact that Arwen was really the only female Aeslin had to talk to was a relatively minor factor. Though she had spent some time with other ladies of the Woodland court and with the female hunters and scouts, though less frequently still, none of them had inspired much of a desire for friendship in the young elf. The closest she had come to having a female friend in Mirkwood was with Tauriel, a talented Silvan scout that had become relatively close friends with her brother. She had been friendly with the fire-haired elf-maid, but, despite being nearly of an age, it never grew to be much more than a casual friendship. Then, her Father's protective refusal to allow Aeslin beyond the bounds of the Woodland Court and his preoccupation with the superiority of Sindarin elves had left little room for cultivating friendships with the predominantly Silvan population of Mirkwood's elves. But even here in Imladris, where she was free of her father's immediate control, she had found the other elves were rather solitary and usually either attending to a variety of duties or furthering their studies as she was. As such, she had not become particularly close to any of them. Not like she had become with Arwen, at least. With her easy laugh and friendly conversation, Aeslin soon found herself confiding in the other dark-haired elf-maid things she had never truly shared with anyone.

Even Legolas had never quite been privy to the thoughts Aeslin shared with the older elf. He had guessed many of them, but that was because he knew his little sister better than she'd known herself. But with Arwen, thoughts and dreams and fears seemed to pour out of the young elf like a flood. Her anxieties about making her own family proud, the depth of the gratitude and disbelief that Arwen's family had so readily accepted her as one of their own, her frustration at her slowing progress in her studies, her longing to see her brother and the Forest of Mirkwood again, her fear at the stories of a Dragon taking the dwarven kingdom of Erebor, so near to her home, even her untold grief at her father's choice to send her away, all found its way into Arwen's confidence.

As it had been with Elladan and Elrohir, it wasn't long until Arwen had worked her way into Aeslin's heart and vice versa. The two became as close as sisters, and became nigh inseparable during Arwen's stay in Rivendell. It was only during Aeslin's lessons that the two were apart, and even then, Arwen would sometimes settle herself on the terrace adjacent to Elrond's study, whiling away the morning engrossed in a book while Aeslin attended to her studies.

It was in this way that more years ran their course. But, eventually, Arwen intended to return to Lorien. She had been home over a century when she brought the subject up with Aeslin. The pair was wandering the paths under the beech and oak trees that flanked the outbuildings of Rivendell.

"I want you to come to Lothlorien with me when I return." Aeslin was startled, neither of them having said a word in several minutes.

"Lothlorien, the home of the Galadhrim? I—Arwen, I have never even dreamed—I cannot. Arwen, I am sorry, but I cannot." The younger elf had stopped walking, causing Arwen to turn and face her.

"Why ever not. You deserve a chance to get away from your studies for a while. You have made incredible progress in your time here; my father has said so himself. You have the promise to become one of the greatest healers in Middle Earth" Aeslin struggled to keep her longing in check. She did desire to see the Woods of Lothlorien with her own eyes, but she had a duty to fulfill here in Rivendell.

"I am sorry." Before Arwen could say another word Aeslin had begun to walk again. Arwen, however, was not dissuaded so easily. Catching Aeslin by the arm, she turned the younger elf to face her.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Aeslin. I understand your need to further your studies, to learn all you can. But I am no longer convinced that—" Arwen abruptly cut herself off, drawing a frown from Aeslin.

"Not convinced of what?" When Arwen hesitated to answer, Aeslin could feel her ire beginning to grow, "what is it you meant to say, Arwen?" The older elf suddenly looked grieved and apologetic, causing the younger's eyes to bore into her's, demanding an answer to quell the growing fear there. Arwen took a deep breath, marshaling her courage to finish what she so carelessly started.

"I am no longer sure that your father will summon you home when you complete your training." The look that spread across Aeslin's face was one of pure shock and disbelief.

"What—no. No, Arwen, that—that is not true. He will call me home. He must." As Arwen's words sunk in, Aeslin's voice became weaker, eventually trailing off completely. Arwen knew in her heart she had to continue, even though she desperately wanted not to. Reaching out, she tried to take Aeslin's arm, but she was shrugged away. Aeslin couldn't even look at her.

"Aeslin, I have sat in on your lessons with my father. He is teaching you far more than any regular healer learns. You already know enough to be a true healer in your own right. He knows that if he were to stop teaching you, you would try to return to Mirkwood, only to find you cannot. So he continues. He knows you thirst for knowledge, that you thirst to prove yourself, so he gives you the chance to pursue those desires." Tears were beginning to form in Aeslin's eyes, though she refused to let them fall.

"Mirkwood is my home—"

"Rivendell is your home now. We love you here; me, my Father, my brothers, they are all your family now too. We want nothing more than to keep you safe. I have heard talk—Mirkwood is dangerous; darkness and shadow are beginning to creep back into the world, and your home becomes more and more dangerous as time passes. It used to be called the Greenwood, but it is no longer; you know that already as you've lived there and have never known it as anything else. Even since you left, it continues to grow darker still. You are safe here, with us." As Arwen spoke of darkness, a different shadow was beginning to grow in Aeslin's mind, one that even she didn't want to understand or acknowledge. As grief and resentment coursed through her, Aeslin's body began to tremble, and before she knew it, her legs were giving way. Arwen was there in an instant, pulling the young elf into a tight embrace, guiding her to the ground as her tears began to fall.


	6. Chapter 5

**Encounters and Departures**

That Arwen's admission had nearly devastated Aeslin was obvious. For nearly a week, she rarely spoke, and even then she spoke sparingly. She was always deep in thought, wandering here and there, distant and aloof. Eventually though, she began to revive, but there was now a stronger set to her jaw and a reserve in her step that had Elrond worried. He feared she would do something reckless. So it was that on one late evening, while he sat up in his study, watching Aeslin overlooking the Valley from the terrace adjacent to his, he began penning a missive to Thranduil.

Aeslin, meanwhile, was fighting a battle of her own. She desperately wanted to talk to her brother and to understand what was going on. She still couldn't quite believe that she could possibly be in Rivendell for a reason other than to study the healing arts. But if she was—Aeslin refused to think like that, and yet, as she tried not to, the subject kept worming its way into her thoughts. That the things Elrond was teaching her now were more advanced than anything an average healer might know was obvious. She had wondered on that for several years now. The fact that he was allowing her to treat patients without supervision had struck that thought home the first time it had happened nearly a decade ago. In addition, the breadth of his lessons were now starting to broaden even further to encompass histories, some of the sciences and even poetry and song. Half the time it was now Erestor, instead of Elrond, who guided her studies.

The more she thought about it, the clearer her situation seemed to become, and the possibility of going to Lothlorien was even more tempting than it had before. On several occasions she found herself on the verge of accepting Arwen's offer, only to rein herself in. No matter the temptation to disregard her purpose in Rivendell, she was not prepared to so blithely abandon her studies. Until Master Elrond told her there was nothing more he could teach her, she would remain.

* * *

First years, and then months began to count down until Arwen's departure, and still, Aeslin could not reconcile her thoughts. She continued with whatever studies Elrond placed before her and acted cordially enough around others, but everyone around her noticed her change of spirit, especially her adoptive siblings. Elrohir tried to get her to open up with his usual teasing and jests, but she would only politely smile or feign a laugh. Arwen tried to get her to open up about the rift growing between them and the issues with her position, but she was usually met with silence on these occasions. Song was one of the few things that garnered a true response from her, and a peace would appear to come over her when she lost herself in a book of poetry.

But it was Elladan who finally found the means to bring her out of the gloom that had settled inside her. One gray afternoon, after finding Aeslin holed up near the gardens, he all but dragged her to the Practice Field, an area she had rarely visited. She put up some resistance, though Elladan was convinced her heart wasn't in it.

Early on, the brothers had taken her here for a separate part of her lessons in order to discern her skills for handling a sword and defending herself and expanding upon what she had learned in Mirkwood. That had lasted for some time, but eventually the frequency of those lessons dwindled and ended. She hadn't really visited the field since. Elladan stood her at one end and placed a bow in her hand and a quiver of arrows at her side; one thing he hadn't done during the course of her lessons. Holding her surprised gaze for a moment with a stern expression of his own, he then turned and picked up a bow of his own. As he suspected, like most wood-elves, Aeslin was talented with a bow and was already well trained, so the reintroduction of one into her hands had the effect of waking her from a deep sleep.

It was evening before they returned to the Main House, but she was pleasantly weary after the rounds with the bow Elladan had given her. That night she slept deeply and without the weight of her internal struggles bearing down on her.

So it was that the next day, and the day after that she found her way to the Practice Field almost unconsciously, her own Mirkwood-made short bow no longer forgotten in a corner of her rooms but clutched in her hand. She had never thought much about her familiarity with a bow before, but having it placed in her hands once again, she realized that she had missed the sound of arrows in flight and the feel of the bow tensing and straining beneath her hands. It had left her tired, and emotionally drained, for she had taken her frustrations and anxieties out on the target across the field. It also brought back memories of simpler times, when Legolas had been her protector and her hero. He had spent days on end teaching her to wield a bow, and once she had mastered the weapon, they had honed and practiced those skills together on many occasions. He had even taken her on a short ranging once, much to their father's displeasure. As it had then, in the dark forests of Mirkwood, time seemed to hold still as she sent arrow after arrow flying towards the targets.

However, the sun would eventually begin to set, reminding Aeslin that time had indeed passed as she gave herself over to the therapeutic effect of her bow. On one evening in particular, her mind calmer than it had been in weeks, Aeslin made her way back to her rooms. Before she could slip away to her quarters, though, Elrond waylaid her. He surveyed her for a long moment, his gaze distinctly troubled. Aeslin met his gray eyes without flinching, realizing for the first time what her withdrawal from the world must have been doing to those closest to her. It took her a long moment to find her voice, and when she did it was soft, and it betrayed how ashamed she was of her recent conduct.

"Master Elrond, I—I have no words to convey the depth of my shame at the way I have been acting. It was unwarranted, and after the way you and yours have accepted me into you home, it was cruel of me. I am so sorry." Elrond gave a sad smile.

"We have done more than accept you into Imladris, child, we have welcomed you into our hearts. My children see you as their sister, and I love you like a daughter." He sighed deeply, "I must admit, your unhappiness has weighed heavily upon my heart, and I must bear some of that responsibility as well. I should not have kept the nature of your stay here from you, even though I had thought you had some idea. It is now obvious to me that you did not. Arwen told me what she said to you, and much of it is true," Aeslin tensed, her gaze dropping as the emotions roiling about within her surged. "I have taught you far more than I had ever intended, and have enjoyed doing so. You are more than I could have asked for in a student, and your eagerness has delighted me to no end. That being said, your skills as a healer are complete. There is little more that I can teach you, Aeslin. Your strength and capabilities will grow as time passes, but you have everything you need to do so on your own." Aeslin looked up at him expectantly, a desperate wish growing in her mind. The expression she met dampened those hopes immediately, for Elrond's face was sad.

"I have been in correspondence with your father about this for a long while, now. He asks that I continue to board you here, even so far as to take you on as my ward. Should you wish it, I shall do so." It was too much for the young elf. She tried desperately to withhold the tears that sprang to her eyes, but one glistening drop escaped. Unable to stand her sorrow, Elrond reached out, pulling her into a tight embrace, and she in turn clung to him.

"Why does he not wish me to return? I have done what he asked. I've done everything he wanted me to do…" Elrond knew he had no response that would comfort her. She understood the love that one can bear for their family, but she could not understand the extent of a Father's love for his child, and less still the paralyzing fear that those feelings could create.

"He wishes only for your safety, Aeslin. Nothing less."

"And what of my happiness?" Her response was so quiet he nearly didn't hear it. Elrond sighed as she pulled away.

"You can be happy here, Aeslin. You were once. Does the love we bear you mean nothing?" It was said gently, without any trace of accusation. But Aeslin froze, her eyes shut in pain. After a moment, she let out a shaky breath.

"Were it not for the love I have received from everyone here, I would have driven myself mad with longing. As it is, I miss my home. I miss the forest, my father, my brother." Elrond knew this; he could see the longing in her eyes as she spoke. "Rivendell has become my home away from home, Master Elrond. But it is not the same. It is not Mirkwood." Elrond could not think of anything he could say to sway her or help her to understand. He sighed again before turning to walk away, only to pause mid-step.

"You could accompany Arwen to Lothlorien," he saw her start as he turned his gaze back to her, "She told me of her offer, and it still stands. I think it would be good for you to see the Golden Wood; it might ease your heart to be under the cover of the trees again." With that he turned away, walking slowly to the end of the hall before turning the corner.

Once he was out of sight, she sank down onto one of the benches that lined the hall. Little more than a covered walkway, the latticed walls let in the cool breeze that swept over Rivendell in the evenings. The seasons were beginning to change, something that Aeslin could feel in the very marrow of her bones. Autumn was coming, and anytime now her father would don his crown of red berries and gold leaves and the court would give over to the revelries that came with the change of the seasons. She had never been one for the extensive and riotous celebrations the change of seasons brought—she had generally preferred Mereth Nuin Giliath as it tended to be less riotous than other feasts—but now she found she missed the ecstatic music and the dancing and the carousing that came with the myriad Autumnal Feasts.

"Aeslin…" she was startled out of her memories by a soft, concerned voice. Realizing her face was damp with silent tears, she brushed them hastily away before raising her head. Its owner wasn't someone she expected to see.

"Legolas—" with a bound, she had leapt from her perch into her brother's waiting arms, "you're here! How are you here?" Without compunction, she let her emotions run rampant, all at once smiling and weeping.

"Elrond has been writing to Father to appraise him of your progress, as well as to ask him to clarify his intentions, and if the time was right for you to come home. I am so sorry, Aeslin. If I had known what he was going say I—" Her brother stopped, choking on his own unease. He was obviously not happy with their father's decision either.

"He doesn't want me to come home. How could he not want me to come home? I am his daughter! Does he not care for me in the slightest?" Legolas hugged her tighter.

"Of course he does, but he also cares for your safety, dearest one, and you are safe here. But he does miss you, Aeslin, more than you can imagine. I could see it in Father's eyes as he sent me here." A faint flicker of hope alighted in Aeslin's eyes.

"Perhaps then you can convince him to let me come home." Legolas shut his eyes tightly, wishing he didn't know better.

"I wish I could, little sister, but Father has made his decision. I wish that I could sway him, but we both know that when his mind is made up he will not relent." Aeslin's tears renewed themselves and she pulled away, sinking onto the bench once again. Struggling to clear the tears from her eyes, she gazed up at the stars. She could no longer imagine not being able to look up into their reassuring gleam, though tonight, their pure light did nothing to ease her heart. Legolas sat beside her, not once taking his gaze from her features.

"When I first came here, I was awestruck at the breadth of sky, the brightness of the Sun, the glow of the Moon, the dancing of the stars. Even the wind and the clouds were wonderful to see, to experience. I wondered how I could've lived without seeing it all for all those years, but now—" she turned her gaze to her brother, her pale blue eyes luminous in the moonlight. "I was so young when I came here, so naïve. I'm still young, I know this, but I realize that I miss my home. I miss the forest, Legolas, and the feel of the trees around me. The scent of the air and the sounds of the leaves and the creatures and the trees themselves haunt me." He reached out, taking hold of her hand.

They were silent for a long while, watching as the night passed around them. The stars wheeled overhead and the Moon traversed her way across the sky. Finally, in the east, the faint glow signaling the approach of dawn began to spread and in the trees around them birds began their morning songs. It was then, as the stars began to fade, that Aeslin spoke, her voice soft and calm, and without trace of sorrow.

"I wish to go with Arwen to Lothlorien." She felt purged of the heartache that had plagued her for so long, so great was the release of knowing, accepting and choosing what to do with that knowledge. Legolas turned his own blue-eyed gaze to his sister, a faint smile coming to his lips. He could see the change in her demeanor, and feel the relief in her voice. It still grieved him that she would not be coming home with him, but at least she still had a chance to be happy.

* * *

It had never occurred to Aeslin to be resentful of her brother. She was far too close to him for that. So, to take advantage of his short time with her, they spent every waking moment together. Periodically, Arwen or one or both of the twins would join them, but mostly they were left to themselves. They spent a great deal of time in the practice field, as it was becoming Aeslin's habit to do anyway, along with the many paths and gardens that made up Rivendell. Sometimes, under the beech, oak and pine trees that covered the hillside, Aeslin was almost able to imagine that they were back in Mirkwood and could wander among the trees forever. The illusion was always shattered though, and eventually, there was no point in pretending anymore.

Eventually, Legolas had to return home.

The longing in Aeslin's heart nearly overcame her again that day, but she managed to keep herself under control. Few tears were shed as Aeslin embraced her brother for the last time, unsure how long it would be until she saw him again. Then with little in the way of words or goodbyes, Legolas took his leave, looking back every few moments. The guilt on his face was clear for all to see, but Aeslin couldn't bring herself to despair her situation anymore; there was nothing she could do about it anyway.

When he was out of sight, the young elf slipped away nearly unnoticed. The discipline she learned on her way to becoming a healer had helped her to keep from creating a scene as Legolas left, but as she rounded the corner that lead to her quarters, she couldn't hold it back anymore. No matter the peace that she found in accepting her circumstances, watching her brother leave without her hurt, and knowing he was returning to the home she hadn't seen in nearly two centuries was even worse. With a silent sob, she stumbled into her room and collapsed onto the divan, curling upon herself and letting herself cry out her heartache.

* * *

Before Legolas had left, Aeslin announced that she accepted Elrond's offer to take her on as his ward, and had further stated her desire to go with Arwen to Lothlorien. Legolas, though cautious, had assented on their Father's behalf, even though he had a feeling Thranduil would not be entirely pleased about his daughter's journey to Lorien. Elrond was pleased that she was moving on and taking charge of her life, and though he worried for her as well, he was all too pleased to take her into his family. Arwen was positively delighted at the news, especially that she would have a companion in Lothlorien.

It was little under a year after Legolas's departure that a small party of Elves came to Rivendell. There were four of them, all tall and blonde, dressed in fine cloth of grays and silvery-greens. Aeslin knew none of them, but hazarded a guess that they were of the Galadhrim. Her suspicions turned out to be correct when Elrond and Arwen greeted them upon their arrival. They were well known to Arwen especially, who gave them a warm welcome. Two of the visitors returned the greeting with equal warmth, but the other pair, brothers, as Aeslin later discovered, were decidedly less friendly in their demeanor. In fact, one of them seemed downright cold.

Aeslin had anticipated that, much like when Arwen had made the journey home to Rivendell, it would be Elladan and Elrohir who escorted them to Caras Galadhon. As it was, the brothers would take them as far as the borders of Lothlorien before turning home. A less than pleasant thought to Aeslin as the last week of her stay in Rivendell passed.

The second evening since the Lorien Elves arrived, in particular, caused her perception of them to shift, of one in particular at least. She hadn't even given much thought to them until that evening. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and Aeslin was making her way back to the Library with an armful of tomes she had been reading in her spare time. As she passed through one of the inner halls, she was unfortunate enough to come across one of the Lorien Elves. One of the brothers, he was leaning motionless against one of the vine-like columns that separated the hall from the courtyard beyond. She was also unfortunate enough not to notice him, and subsequently to inadvertently run into him as he abruptly moved into her path. His expression as she apologized was less than amused. In fact it was downright haughty.

"Do you not pay attention as you walk, elfling?" It had been a long time since she'd been annoyed when attention was called to her age. Then again, the only one to really do so anymore was Elrohir, and that was only ever with affection. This elf said it with outright disdain. He looked her over with a critical eye, his eyes resting on the texts in her arms. Ignoring his rudeness, Aeslin tried to be as civil as possible, though this elf's attitude was verging on offensive.

"I am afraid in the dim light I did not see you, My Lord, but I will endeavor to pay closer attention in the future." With a tiny nod of respect, she tried to slip past him, but before she could, he reached out and lifted the topmost text from her arms. Withholding the urge to groan in frustration, she fixed her expression of calm on her face, watching him flip through the pages of the book of songs Erestor had recommended she read. After a moment, she drew breath to ask him to return it, but he spoke before the words came out of her mouth.

"Have young elves nothing better to do than read poetry? I was under the impression that to study here was a serious matter. I cannot see how frivolity of this kind can serve to teach you much of anything."

"You do not see the worth of songs, then?" She knew the instant the words came out of her mouth that he was going to find them impetuous, but it had been a trying few weeks, and Aeslin's patience was wearing to the point where she did not care. His expression tightened to one of annoyance that nearly matched the way Aeslin was beginning to feel. She continued before he could rebuke her remark.

"I have long since completed my studies, and have even expanded them to include more subtle parts of our culture. That book was lent to me from Master Erestor himself. Besides, when one has studied for as long as I have, I think they would rather deserve to read what they wish. Indeed, fully-trained Healers have a great deal of freedom in Imladris." Abruptly shifting her load, she reached out and snatched the book out of his hands, placing it back onto her pile. With another curt nod, she deftly stepped around him, walking briskly to the Library, feeling his darkened gaze follow her until she rounded the next turn.

She didn't stop until she reached the candlelit confines of the Library. She dropped the books on the table with more force than she had intended, but she needed some sort of outlet for the irritation the Lorien Elf had sparked in her.

"Is something troubling you, Aeslin?" The elf-maid nearly jumped out of her skin when Elrond emerged from behind one of the bookcases, his voice tinged in amusement. Her pride still smarting, Aeslin inhaled deeply, and when she spoke, her own voice held none of the amusement Elrond's did.

"Indeed, someone has." Elrond chuckled softly, but waited for Aeslin to elaborate. "One of the Lorien Elves. He stepped into my path, had the nerve to criticize my studies and the audacity to call me 'elfling'" She all but spat out the last word. Elrond answered her with a soothing tone, hiding his amusement now.

"Elrohir calls you elfling still, does he not?"

"He has my permission, and he uses it with fondness. This one definitely did not. I know not everyone respects youth, but he looked down on me with contempt purely because of my age." Elrond nodded in understanding, his expression taking on a slightly more sober cast.

"I suspect it was Haldir, the Marchwarden of Lorien, that you encountered, then."

"I do not know. He did not exactly offer his name, and we were never introduced." Elrond nodded.

"I imagine it was. Haldir has a certain intolerance for weakness, I'm afraid." Aeslin's gaze shot to her mentor, her eyes blazing with ire.

"I am young, not weak." Elrond held out his hands in peace, his tone once again soothing in attempt to placate her.

"I know that, my dear Aeslin. Unfortunately, for him, youth and weakness are synonymous. He also has a habit of being rather too dour for his own good." His last comment earned a smile, and he could see the tension in her slender frame relax.

"Do not judge him too harshly, Aeslin. He has a good heart, and will guard you well on your journey to Lothlorien." Eventually she sighed.

"I will try not to, Master Elrond. But I cannot promise it will be easy." He laughed.

* * *

Four days later, they set out on their journey to Lothlorien. In the early morning light, Arwen and Aeslin said their goodbyes to Elrond and the other elves of Rivendell. Though both had departed from their homes before, Arwen by far had the most experience, and managed her feelings much better than Aeslin did, not that leaving her family was easy by any stretch of the imagination. Aeslin had a harder time of it. She had a great many fond memories of her time in Rivendell, and her new family had become very dear to her indeed. So it was that when Elrond gave her a farewell embrace, she very nearly didn't let go. Fear had once again crept into the pit of her stomach, and her mentor and his home were safe havens for the young elf.

Elrond laid a kiss of parting on her head, wishing her a fond farewell, and Aeslin struggled to hold back her emotions yet again. Then, mounting the horse Elladan held for her, Aeslin said goodbye to Rivendell, and the group set out on their way.


	7. Chapter 6

**The Expected and Unexpected Alike**

Departing Rivendell had been difficult, but Elrohir and Elladan tried to make it as easy as possible for Aeslin and Arwen alike. They were both upbeat and friendly, singing songs and even composing poems on the spot, often with ridiculous results. As a result, the two elf-maids found the journey much more enjoyable than they had expected. Everyone, in fact, was upbeat and cheerful as a result of the twin's good natures…save for one. Elrond had been right when he pegged Haldir as the dour one, for dour he was setting out from Imladris. He was constantly riding a little ways ahead, and nearly always sparing the more jovial members of the party patronizing looks of varying degrees. Though Aeslin had promised Elrond to give him a chance, she was finding it increasingly hard to do so.

However, none of the others let him dampen their spirits, having travelled with him before, so she resolved not let him get to her either.

The Misty Mountains, however, did have a sobering effect on the elves where Haldir did not, and as the group entered the mountains, even Elrohir's conviviality was hushed. Everyone who braved the Redhorn Gate feared goblin attack, and the Lorien travelers were no exception. As dusk fell, and the mountains covered the land with their immense shadows, tensions began to rise within the group.

The first night nothing happened, but the second evening, as they neared the eastern edge of the mountains, clouds began to move in, veiling the sunset with their dreary shadow. Everyone was hyper vigilant already, and the gloom created by the onset of the thick, gray clouds did nothing to lessen their anxiety.

But even with every set of eyes on the lookout for danger, it still took them by surprise. The first sign was when Arwen suddenly turned her gaze to the wall of rock looming above her, straining to hear more of what she thought she heard. After a long moment, she gave up, only to hear a panicked shout behind her. She spun just in time to see one of the Lorien elves fall. Aeslin watched in horror as the elf, named Maeron, fell from his horse to lay motionless on the rocky path, an arrow jutting from the base of his neck as his blood began to flow freely.

Then everything turned to chaos.

Arrows flew from every direction towards the group of elves as ear-splitting shrieks echoed between the close walls of the pass. By pure chance, no one else was killed, but Elladan took one of the black shafts to his left shoulder, and one of the other Lorien elves just missed acquiring an arrow wound of his own. The horses were not so lucky. One horse screamed as it was struck by an arrow and threw its rider in fear and panic, causing the others to whinny and balk in distress. Aeslin tried to regain control of her mount, but it suddenly let out a scream of its own and stumbled as three arrows pierced its flesh, nearly crushing her as it fell. As if matters couldn't get any worse, Goblins were now streaming out of the hills around them. Aeslin heard someone call her name, but couldn't tell whom, distracted as she was.

The rest of the group had either unsheathed swords or had begun picking off their foes with the bows that had been slung across their backs. Aeslin nearly began to panic, as her bow had been on her saddle, and was now trapped beneath the body of her horse. After a moment of insistent tugging it came free, but the once taut string had snapped, and now hung limp from the elegant ends of her bow. As shouts and shrieks alike added to the din around her, Aeslin anxiously wrenched free the sword she carried at her hip, her eyes darting about her before her gaze landed upon Maeron's body, and the bow sticking out from underneath it. Almost without thinking, Aeslin sprang forward, her sword once again in its sheath. She only hoped as she did that Maeron's fall hadn't damaged the weapon.

Around her, the others had abandoned bows and were engaging with the first wave of goblins, dispatching them with deadly efficiency. Elrohir and Elladan alike had swords in their hands and were using them with practiced ease. Elladan's face was contorted in pain, but he still fought with the same fluid grace as his uninjured companions as he tried to angle his mount closer to Arwen. Elrohir and the unhorsed Lorien elf struggled to get to Aeslin, but she had already reached Maeron and, after a split second of hesitation, had rolled him over and grabbed the bow, immediately bringing it to bear on a goblin bearing down on her. With a swing, she hit the misshapen creature square in the face, sending it careening in the other direction. Before it even hit the ground she had reached to her quiver and nocked an arrow before letting it fly. Her aim was true and the goblin that met her arrow toppled off its perch before it could send one of its own into the fray. Letting instinct overtake her, she let loose three more arrows, and three more goblins fell before Elrohir made it to her side. Reaching out a hand, he pulled her up behind him before swinging his horse around to face yet another onslaught of goblins.

Now securely seated behind her adoptive brother, Aeslin now used her newly acquired bow to help keep the oncoming Goblins at bay. The Lorien elf on foot stuck close to Elrohir's horse, slaying any goblin that got to close. Not far away, Arwen was holding her own while Elladan fought beside her, their horses pressed against one another. Haldir and his brother were just beyond them, struggling to hold back the swarm that threatened to overtake them. As one Goblin leaped from the ledge above them, Aeslin let fly another arrow, catching the goblin an instant before it could bring its sword down on Haldir's outstretched arm.

The Lorien Elf started for a split-second as the dead goblin all but fell onto his lap, Aeslin's arrow piercing it clear through the eye. He looked over at her, an expression verging on surprise flitting across his features before giving her a quick nod of thanks and refocusing on the goblins racing towards him.

The skirmish lasted for what seemed like hours to Aeslin, though in reality it only lasted a fraction of that time, and all too soon she was out of arrows. Luckily though, the Goblins were retreating, likely deciding that their losses were too high and that the elves were too much effort.

As the last of their shrieking foes disappeared into the mountain crags around them, the elves were almost stunned by the silence of the mountain pass. The only sounds left were those of skittering rocks and stones dislodged by the goblin's retreat and anxious horses shifting in the tense aftermath. Around them the corpses of the goblins covered the path and the crags above them. After a moment, Haldir gave quiet orders to retrieve the bags from the two dead horses, for Aeslin's was dead and Maeron's had been killed shortly after in its panicked attempt to flee. His brother, having dismounted next to their fallen comrade, looked visibly saddened as he confirmed that Maeron was indeed dead. Behind Elrohir, Aeslin could only look around her in stunned silence, her hands grasping his cloak so tightly her knuckles were white. The gravity and the reality of what just happened was beginning to sink in, and it wasn't until Elrohir turned in the saddle to steady her that she realized she was trembling so badly she was at risk of falling off the horse.

Arwen looked flushed from exertion, but beside her Elladan was beginning to look ashen, his left arm clutched to his chest. As Elrohir turned to face forward again, he saw his brother's face and urged his mount forward, starting Aeslin out of her shocked trance. His jaw clenched against the pain, Elladan tried to shrug it off. No matter what either his twin, his sister or his adopted sister said, he insisted they needed to get going.

As Aeslin tried to reason with him, Haldir interrupted, joining in with Elladan's insistence that they keep moving. Not allowing for argument, Haldir wheeled his mount around and set of down the path, his brother following close behind. After ensuring Aeslin was settled comfortably behind him, her recovered Mirkwood bow in her hand and Maeron's arrows replenishing her quiver, Elrohir urged his horse ahead, though his concerned gaze stayed on his twin. Elladan, side by side with Arwen, followed close behind the Lorien brothers, each of whom were bearing the cargo the fallen horses no longer could. Behind them, the third Lorien elf mounted his horse, careful not to disturb the body of his comrade where it was already secured on his mount.

It was with haste that the party of elves finished the final portion of their trek through the mountains. Once free of the rocky confines and the treacherous paths, the horses were able to stretch out their legs, rejoicing in the open air around them as they sped across the rolling hills and plains past the foothills of the mountains.

With each passing hour though, Elladan's wound was obviously causing him more and more pain, and as his strength ebbed, Aeslin became more and more worried. They paused for a short rest on the banks of the Gladden River having ridden day and night since entering the confines of the mountains. After several tense moments of arguing with the Lorien brothers and Elladan, Aeslin finally convinced them to let her treat the wounded Rivendell twin. It was mostly thanks to the final ultimatum that she would not go a mile further until she at least cleaned and partially healed the wound.

The instant the wounded elf left the saddle, it was clear that he could not have gone much further anyway. Arwen was already on the ground, supporting him as she led him to a clear patch of ground away from where the horses were being watered and allowed to graze.

Aeslin didn't waste any time reaching his side, helping him remove the cloak and layers of light armour that blocked her access to the wound. She was hesitant to remove the arrow without getting a good look at the entry point. Slowly, layers of fabric and leather were peeled away to reveal an angry mess of blood and flesh that stemmed from the black shaft in Elladan's shoulder. By the time Aeslin could examine him properly, Elladan's face was covered in a sheen of sweat, with strands of dark hair plastered to his fevered flesh.

"You should have let me tend this a long time ago, Elladan," she muttered under her breath, shooting him a small glance before motioning Elrohir forward. Arwen sat beside Aeslin, gripping Elladan's hand. Turning to the other elf-maid, Aeslin gave orders to retrieve her bag, giving direction to find specific items within it. Without hesitation, Arwen did as she was asked, nearly running into Haldir in the process. The Marchwarden watched in silence, looking, on occasion, like he was about to say something, only to reconsider.

When Arwen returned to Aeslin's side, she held the bag in hand and, without hesitation, began searching for the poultice and bandages she was charged to find. Already the young healer had washed a great deal of the blood from the wound, but there was still the matter of the arrow. Having examined it, it became clear that the arrow, though it had been worked deeper still by the fight and the ride, just needed to be removed; that nothing too serious would happen once it was pulled out. He had lost a lot of blood though, and during the fighting a large portion of the shaft had been snapped off, leaving little to hold onto; probably why he hadn't just pulled it out on his own.

"Elrohir," the elf already knelt at his brother's side, waiting for Aeslin to call on him, "I need you to hold him, I cannot have him thrashing around." He nodded, grabbing a hold of his twin's shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Aeslin closed her eyes for a moment, making sure her thoughts were clear, before taking a firm hold on remaining piece of the goblin's arrow. She turned her gaze to Elladan's pain-filled one. "Are you prepared?" She didn't tell him to relax, or that it would hurt, because he knew that already. Nevertheless, he gave a curt nod in reply, leaning back and taking a few bracing breaths of his own as he tried to relax. Then Aeslin pulled the arrow free.

A strangled cry came from Elladan's lips as the arrowhead was pulled from his shoulder. From the corner of her eye, Aeslin saw Elrohir flinch in sympathy, but she pushed ahead. Laying the broken shaft aside, she proceeded to wash and cleanse the wound before applying the poultice Arwen had ready and waiting at her side. Then, laying her hands over the gaping wound, she began to whisper the healing incantations Elrond had taught her, encouraging the flesh and muscle to knit and heal. After a few long moments she fell silent. Thanks to the battle and the hard ride thus far, plus the added exertion of the healing, she was beginning to tire. But because of her training and her own stubbornness and pride, she allowed no outward signs of her fatigue to show other than a faint tremor in her hands she couldn't control. Even Arwen, who was watching her intently, wasn't even sure she had seen it before Aeslin resumed her work. When she was finished the worst of the wound was healed, but the flesh was still split open since they simply didn't have the time for her to heal it fully. Applying more of the poultice, Aeslin efficiently bound the wound.

Leaning back, Aeslin left Elrohir and Arwen to help Elladan back into his garments, taking special care to avoid the partially healed wound. It was then that Aeslin let herself relax. Her hands were covered in Elladan's blood, and the tremor that Arwen had dismissed was more prominent than before, though now it was enhanced by the sudden lack of adrenaline in her system. Fighting to regain the calm she'd had mere moments earlier, she stood and walked carefully to the river, not quite trusting her legs to get her there. But get her to the bank they did, and she sank down to the edge to rinse to blood from her hands.

The water was cold, but it was a bracing cold and it helped to clear her mind of the fear that threatened to move in. Elladan had been lucky; had the arrow gone any deeper, or any lower—but she would not let herself think of that, and pushed that thought away. Once the water that passed over her hands ran clear, she tried to stand, only this time her legs did not cooperate. Her vision wavered as she let her eyes wander the bank opposite where she sat, a flutter of frustration and anxiety in her stomach.

A shadow came up beside her, and before she could turn to see whom it belonged to, Haldir came to kneel beside her. He handed her a flask of water, which she gratefully accepted.

"Are you well, Healer?" She turned to meet his clear blue gaze, confused for a moment until she realized the haze over her vision was the result of unshed tears. As one escaped onto her cheek, she turned away, hastily brushing it aside with her fingertips.

"Yes, I am well enough." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I am tired, nothing more." Beside her the Marchwarden nodded.

"Unless I am mistaken, you have never seen battle before." It was not a question, but Aeslin nodded in assent anyway. "You acquitted yourself well. Many hesitate and panic when they first encounter the threat of death in that manner." A faint grin alighted on his features, drawing Aeslin's gaze, "You are also well trained with a bow." Aeslin let out a faint laugh.

"Yes. I was born in Mirkwood; my brother insisted he train me when I was very young."

"He taught you well. You very likely saved my life with that arrow, and I thank you for it."

"You are very welcome. But I could not in my right mind let you die." Once again she turned her gaze to meet his, this time holding it. It was the first time she had truly talked with the Lorien elf, and it surprised her. When his haughtiness and pride weren't interfering, he was far more genuinely kind than she had originally perceived.

Behind them Elladan was being helped to his feet, lightly scolding his siblings for smothering him. Aeslin and Haldir both turned to watch as the wounded elf insisted he could handle himself, while allowing Arwen to adjust the sling holding his left arm. Haldir laughed quietly, causing Aeslin to look back to him in surprise. She had never heard him laugh before. It was a rather pleasant laugh, one that made her own heart feel lighter.

"I see he is recovering already," he stood, looking down on her as he extended his hand, "you have done well, Healer." Accepting his hand, the Lorien elf helped Aeslin to her feet, steadying her as, in her exhausted state, she slipped a little on the slick stones beneath her feet. She was very aware of the hand he placed on the small of her back and the other that firmly held her own.

The others were beginning to mount as he led her back to the horse she was sharing with Elrohir. Giving her a small smile, Haldir made his way to his own dappled mount after kindly helping her up behind her adopted brother. The Rivendell elf watched him with a small frown for a moment, before turning to make sure Aeslin was settled. It was then that he noticed the tired cast to her expression, but also the faint smile that rested on her lips.

"Are you alright, elfling?" He said it in his usual teasing way, but Aeslin could discern the concern underneath. Hugging his waist as he urged their horse forward, she leaned her head against his back.

"Yes, Elrohir. I'm fine."

With a brusque command from Haldir at the head of their troupe, they were off, flying over the plains to Lorien.

* * *

Dusk was falling when the group of elves reached the Woods of Lothlorien several days later. As night spread over the land, the elves pushed further into the Forest before Haldir abruptly halted them. In moments there were several more Lorien elves descending from the trees to join them on the ground. Haldir exchanged a few brief words with one of his fellow wardens before signalling the other riders to follow him.

He led them a little further into the forest, eventually dismounting. The others followed his example, Aeslin slipping down easily so that Elrohir could dismount as well.

It felt good to be under the cover of trees again. In much the same way she had the first time she ventured into the open air when leaving Mirkwood, Aeslin paused, filling her lungs with the air and scent of the forest around her. Lorien was very different than Mirkwood, the air was lighter and sweeter for one, the trees not nearly so gnarled or wild, but in many ways it was the same. To feel the trees around her and to hear the sounds of the forest was a like a balm on her soul, just as Elrond thought it might. There was so much life here. Immediately she was glad to have come. Reaching a hand out to touch the great tree beside her, she smiled as the tree seemed to come alive under her fingers, pulsing with life along with everything else around her. Closing her eyes for a moment she took another deep breath before turning back to the group.

She was startled to see several of her party watching her with bemused interest. Arwen stepped forward to take the young elf's hand, a smile adorning her luminous face.

"You look happier already, Aeslin." Aeslin didn't hesitate to smile in return.

"I missed the forest so much, Arwen. I—" Yet she couldn't put what she wanted to say into words. Nevertheless, Arwen seemed to understand.


	8. Chapter 7

**Another Beginning**

They spent the night on the Flets the Wardens used to guard the borders of Lorien. After the horses were led away to a more secluded area, the Rivendell party was, one by one, lifted to up to the platforms hidden among the branches of the mallorn-trees that inhabited Lorien.

Once settled, the Rivendell Elves began to truly relax. Aeslin, buoyed by her joy at being among so many great trees, checked on Elladan's bindings, eventually unwrapping them and examining the wound. What little healing she had done promoted the wound to close on its own, so it was well enough to leave unbound. Aeslin was pleased with the results, and told Elladan that, with the natural speed with which Elves healed, he would be hale long before they reached Rivendell.

It was a testament to the effect of the Golden Wood on the Mirkwood elf that her sorrow was far less than it had ever been previously on any mention of Elladan and Elrohir's imminent departure. She and Arwen well knew that at dawn the brothers would depart so they could make it through the Redhorn Gate before winter reached the mountain pass. Though Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn were their kin as well, the twins were anxious to get home.

The night seemed to pass blessedly slow, allowing the four elves out of Rivendell one last chance to be together before they were separated. Arwen, rather understandably, was quiet and reserved that night, sitting between her brothers as they all reclined with their backs to the massive tree that gave home to the flet. Aeslin sat next to Elrohir, leaning comfortably against him as the night wore on. The four of them talked quietly, undisturbed by the Lorien elves nearby.

By the time dawn came, they had all fallen into an easy sleep, dozing as the sun's light began to stream through the canopy of leaves leaving dappled patterns on the wooden surface of the flets. Aeslin was the first to open her eyes as the forest awoke around them. Beside her, Elrohir slept peacefully, Arwen's hand wrapped in his, while she lay curled against Elladan, who in turn had a protective arm around his younger sister. Aeslin extricated her hand from the crook of Elrohir's arm, careful not to wake him as she separated herself from the siblings. They looked so peaceful that she couldn't bear to disturb them. With the silent steps of her kind, she paced across the flet and looked out at the Golden Wood, finally stopping to watch the forest around her.

Standing stock-still at the edge of the flet, her eyes followed the shifting and dancing patterns made by the sunlight through the leaves. It was so unlike Mirkwood that she was barely able to compare the two, not that she really felt any desire to do so anyway. She hadn't been there for more than a few moments when Haldir joined her.

"I trust your night was peaceful." With a small smile she turned to face him.

"Yes, thank you. It was a well needed respite for us all." He nodded, satisfied. Taking another few steps forward, he came to stand beside her on the edge of the flet, looking out beyond their perch.

"The Golden Wood calls to you, doesn't it." A look of soft satisfaction came over Aeslin's face as he spoke, confirming Haldir's suspicions even before she spoke.

"Indeed, it does. It has been almost three centuries since I left Mirkwood. I could feel the emptiness inside me at being parted from my home, but Lorien…" She was at a loss for words. She still missed her home, but Lorien called to her heart in a different way than Mirkwood ever had. "…I don't know. They are as different as day and night, Lorien and Mirkwood; each beautiful and wondrous in its own way. I can't even compare them." It was Haldir's turn to nod.

"It is indeed beautiful here. There is nothing in Middle Earth to rival it."

"That is not at all difficult to believe."

"Nowhere else does the mallorn-tree flourish as it does here," He sighed wistfully, "save in the Undying Lands." Aeslin turned to him, feeling the same longing she saw in his eyes; the same longing that every elf in Middle Earth held in their hearts.

"Perhaps that is why this forest calls to us so." Haldir smiled down at her, a considering look on his face.

"Perhaps. Perhaps you are right." He shifted next to her, a faint expression of discomfort coming across his features. The Healer looked back out across the Wood, giving him time to formulate whatever it was that he obviously wanted to say.

"I was—wrong, Aeslin of Mirkwood," Aeslin turned back to him, trying not to feel a hint of satisfaction at the obvious way his conscience was battling his inflated sense of pride, especially as he was visibly troubled and uncomfortable. He paused, struggling to convey what he wanted to. "I judged you harshly once, and have since been shown just how mistaken I was. My—pride impaired my judgment and my courtesy, and for that, I must offer my most sincere apologies. You have always acted with far more grace and sense than I initially presumed you possessed. You also saved my life." Aeslin held up a hand, pausing his speech. His sincerity could not be questioned, and his eyes pleaded for understanding. She was, however, prepared to give him something more than understanding; forgiveness.

"That you regret your actions is obvious, as is the lesson you have learned. Nothing more needs to be said, My Lord. All is well between us." Behind them, Elrond's children were beginning to stir, drawing Aeslin away from their conversation. Upon seeing Elrohir standing and, beside him, Elladan and Arwen stirring, she left Haldir alone at the edge of the flet with a quiet word of thanks.

Slowly everyone awoke, and after the border guards shared their morning meal with the Rivendell elves, Elladan and Elrohir were ready to depart. After being lowered to the ground, the brothers embraced their sister, taking several long moments to bid each other farewell. As their horses were brought round, the brothers took time to thank the Lorien elves, and to give their condolences for the loss of their kinsman. Finally they made their way round to Aeslin. Elladan's farewell was brief, a short embrace and a fond farewell. Elrohir, though, took a little longer. In all the long years Aeslin had been in Rivendell, they had become very close. The hug he gave her was longer than his brother's, and she left a tender kiss upon his cheek.

"You will be well here, sweet elfling?" Aeslin couldn't help but laugh. It was baffling to her that once she would've taken the affectionate term as insult, but now she realized she was going to miss it.

"I will be well, dear brother." Elrohir grinned at the returned term of endearment, pulling her into one last embrace. He then pulled away, and, after one last farewell embrace for Arwen, joined Elladan on horseback. With a wave and a shout, the brothers departed Lorien, disappearing through the trees. Aeslin had come to stand beside Arwen, taking her hand, as the brothers mounted their horses. After they had gone from their sight, the older elf gave the younger's a squeeze, but did not let go. Letting her brothers go was hard for Arwen, something Aeslin intimately understood.

It wasn't long after Elladan and Elrohir left that the rest of the little party set out from Rivendell continued deeper into The Forest of Lorien. Aeslin, sharing a mount with Arwen now, couldn't help but be surprised the closer to the heart of the forest they got. The young elf expected that the deeper into the wood they ventured, the darker it would become; that's what her experience had prepared her for. But her experience failed her in Lorien, and she was almost overcome with delight when it did. If anything, the depths of Lorien grew brighter, the beauty of the forest enhanced by the rays of sunlight that shone through the canopy. It overwhelmed the young elf so that as they drew near their final destination, the Forests of Mirkwood were nearly forgotten.

They came to the top of a rise where they could look out from among the trees over the treetops below. Haldir and his brother Rumil stopped here; exchanging brief looks of satisfaction as they looked out over the green-gold foliage before them. Aeslin and Arwen came up beside the brothers a moment later.

"Caras Galadhon. Our destination." Haldir's voice was laden with reverence as he shifted his gaze to the two elf-maids next to him. Arwen, her spirits having lifted as the day wore on, smiled as they caught their first glimpse of the Elven city through the trees. Aeslin was speechless at the sight of the City of Trees. It stood high on a hill above the trees surrounding it, looking for all like a mountain of golden foliage. With a smile, the Lorien elves led the way, Arwen and Aeslin following close behind.

The City was more beautiful than Aeslin could've imagined. The trees were home to dozens of flets, homes, halls and balconies, all linked by an intricate and varied array of stairways and bridges. The very architecture looked to be a part of the forest, gleaming white and silver lattices with weaving and flowing tree and vine motifs providing the very structure of the city. Statues, lawns and meandering pathways covered the forest floor with niches and beautiful groves dotting the landscape. Fountains let loose singing spurts of clear, cool water and flowers bloomed in profusion, filling the air with their sweet scent. And all around them the massive trunks of the golden mallorn-trees formed the base and the foundation for the wonders of Caras Galadhon.

Leaving their horses in the care of several waiting Lorien Elves, Arwen and Aeslin followed Haldir and Rumil into the city toward the home of the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien. They were interrupted when a voice came from amid the trees. The faces of the two Lorien brothers lit up when a third brother, Orophin, joined them. Clasping the hands of his brothers, he welcomed them back in turn before focusing his attention on Arwen. They were obviously acquainted already, for Arwen greeted him warmly before introducing him to Aeslin. She liked him immediately, for he greeted her in a friendly, welcoming manner; it was very different from her first encounter with his brother.

Turning back to his brothers, Orophin clasped Haldir's shoulder.

"The Lady is waiting for you. She and Lord Celeborn are anxious to see their Granddaughter." Nodding, the Marchwarden took the lead, taking them through the winding paths and up silver gabled stairs. Eventually they passed through a complex and intricately decorated antechamber that wove over and around them in fantastic illuminated lace-work patterns before entering another part of the hall; a large, simply decorated, open flet, cradled in the branches of its host tree. At one end was an arch, adorned with more intertwining tree motifs, guarding a staircase of stone, both surrounded and framed by golden leaves. They paused at the base of the stairs, with Haldir and his brothers standing just off to the side.

From the top of the stair came a soft glow, and as Aeslin and her companions turned to look, two figures were descending toward them. On the right was Lord Celeborn, tall and clothed in blue and silver, his face stern but still kind. On his left was Galadriel. Aeslin could not look away from the Lady of Light, transfixed by not only her beauty, but from the power and the wisdom that created a bright aura that surrounded her. Her name was apt, for a soft golden light seemed to emanate from her form; such was the effect of her presence. The room seemed to glow as they reached the bottom of the stairs, imbuing each of them with warmth and a radiance of their own. Arwen especially, glowed with happiness, moving forward into the open embrace of her grandmother.

"Welcome home, youngest child of mine daughter. You have been missed." She pulled back to smile down at Arwen, the love in her gaze apparent for all to see. Celeborn was next to embrace their granddaughter, relating his joy at her safe arrival. Galadriel, meanwhile, turned to Aeslin, her piercing blue eyes almost unnerving but for the joy in them.

"Welcome, Aeslin, daughter of Mirkwood. You are very welcome here." It took a moment for the young elf to find her voice, still awed as she was by the presence of two such powerful beings as The Lord and Lady of Lorien. She dropped low in a curtsey, lowering her eyes in respect.

"My Lady," was all she could manage. She was brought to her feet when the Lady herself stepped forward, raising Aeslin's face to hers with her long, slender fingers.

"There is no need for any of that. My daughter's children love you as a sister, and I am sure we shall come to love you as well. You are family here, and you will find the peace you seek." Galadriel's face was lit with a luminous smile. She then turned to Haldir and his brothers.

"Again you deserve our most grateful thanks, Haldir and Rumil. Our Granddaughter is returned safe to us thanks to you," Her eyes turned back to Aeslin for a moment, sparkling with mirth, "and our new guest, it seems." The brothers bowed in reverence, and it was Haldir who answered her.

"Indeed, My Lady. Lady Aeslin's skill proved invaluable on our journey. Your Grandson Elladan even now owes his life to this healer—as do I." Galadriel smiled again, a curious expression darting over her features.

"It seems you have earned the respect of our Marchwarden, my young healer. No easy task, as it were." A tone akin to teasing made its way into the Lady's voice, causing a faint flush to rise to Haldir's cheeks. Aeslin couldn't help but smile. Galadriel turned back to her husband, who still stood with his Granddaughter's arm threaded through his own. Letting go of Arwen, he held out a hand for his wife, who took it gladly.

"Come, I'm sure there is much for you to tell us." Celeborn said, looking down at Arwen, who still wore a wide smile on her face. As the couple began to climb the stairs, Arwen turned to look at Aeslin, waiting for the younger elf to follow. After a moment of hesitation, the Mirkwood elf joined her friend and followed the Lord and Lady up the staircase.

* * *

The meal they all shared was a pleasant affair. After being permitted to clean themselves up a bit, and to change out of their riding garments, Arwen and Aeslin joined Celeborn and Galadriel in their own private dining room. There was a great deal of laughter, and Aeslin found she warmed to the Master and Mistress of the Golden Wood very quickly. They asked with genuine interest about her studies and her time at Imladris, while Arwen added comments of her own when appropriate. Haldir, his brothers and his brothers' wives also joined them after a while, turning the conversation to tell of the journey from Rivendell.

Both Galadriel and Celeborn's faces grew serious as their wardens told of the Ambush in the mountains. They were saddened by tell of Maeron's passing, and grave when they heard of Elladan's injury. It was then that Celeborn turned to Aeslin.

"It was then that you treated him?" He was watching her appraisingly as he spoke, not shifting his gaze while she spoke.

"No, My Lord, it was only when we reached the Gladden River that I was permitted to see to his injury." Celeborn nodded, understanding in his eyes at what she didn't say.

"You were not pleased by this." Aeslin took a deep breath.

"No, I was not. Elladan was lucky, the arrow did not pierce as deep as it could have, nor was it in danger of damaging his heart or his lungs. But I did not know that until I examined him. Had it been worse, I might not have been able to help him." Aeslin felt compelled to lower her gaze, unable to meet Celeborn's knowing look. She hadn't truly allowed herself to think about the what-ifs since she had sat by the river that day. Her voice failed her, and she was loath to betray any weakness to those around her.

When she had fallen silent, Celeborn had turned to Haldir.

"Is this true?" Haldir straightened.

"Yes, Milord. The Goblins had retreated, but there was no doubt that they would return. It was not safe in the pass, and we needed to get out of the shadow of the mountains as quickly as possible. It was only when we paused at the river that the Lady Aeslin could tend to Elladan." A small smile came to Galadriel's face, drawing a frown from Celeborn when he noticed.

"I feel there is more there than you are telling us, Haldir." The Marchwarden tensed at his Mistress's observation. He spared a look at Aeslin, who still kept her gaze fixed on the table before her.

"It took some convincing from Lady Aeslin for me to concede to linger at the river." Now Celeborn's expression took on a cast of curiosity, while his wife looked on the verge of laughing. Haldir knew he had little choice but to continue. "Aeslin dismounted from behind Elrohir and demanded I permit her to tend to Elladan. I was anxious to reach our Wood, but she was—persistent." He shot the young healer another look. This time she looked up, meeting his gaze. She was puzzled by the unreadable expression therein, and quickly lowered her eyes again. Haldir turned back to Celeborn, who still watched him with growing amusement.

"How so?" the Lord of Lorien asked. Haldir sighed, and, for a long moment, hesitated to continue. Arwen very nearly told the rest for him, but Celeborn shot her a lightly warning glance before subtly urging Haldir to continue. Satisfied, Arwen relaxed into her chair. She enjoyed this part of the story. Indeed, she was rather proud of her adopted sister.

"When I insisted we continue on, she grabbed my reins and refused to let go or to continue another mile until I relented. When I hesitated she threatened to remedy my stubbornness by forcing me. In addition, she not only still had Maeron's bow across her back, but her damaged Mirkwood bow in her hand, both of which, I must admit, she is quite skilled, so I was loath to doubt her word." Celeborn began to laugh as Haldir finished, the others at the table joining in with laughter of their own, drawing a deep flush to Aeslin's cheeks. Galadriel smiled widely at Haldir's admission of Aeslin's tenacity, looking to the embarrassed healer.

 _Do not be ashamed, sweet Aeslin_ , came Galadriel's voice in her head, _for you have proven the strength of your spirit by your actions_. Startled, Aeslin raised her head to look at the Lady to be met with a kind smile.

 _But I was afraid, nothing more_ , she answered back, somehow knowing the Lady would hear. She felt the warm, soothing presence of Galadriel wash over her.

 _There can be no bravery without fear, and no strength without weakness to overcome_ , was the reply. Aeslin held Galadriel's gaze with little desire to look away, unsure exactly what had just occurred, but her spirits felt lifted. Eventually the Lady shifted her gaze, turning her attention elsewhere. Aeslin continued to think on what she said for a long time after that.

* * *

Aeslin settled in Lorien quite easily, for being within the confines of the forest was enough to make her feel at home. Arwen was also very much at home in Lothlorien and introduced Aeslin to the forest with great enthusiasm. Over the next several years she grew to love Caras Galadhon almost as much as her childhood home of Mirkwood. Arwen showed her the City along with other sights of Lorien. Together, they climbed to the top of the hill upon which Cerin Amroth was located. High upon the white flet that rested in the tallest tree there, Aeslin and Arwen sat for a long time, surveying the Wood of Lothlorien together.

"This is my favourite place in Lorien, for it gives me the chance to think, and to see the beauty of the forest around me. There is not quite a view like it anywhere in Middle Earth that I have seen." Aeslin smiled at Arwen's admission, understanding why she loved it so. Below them stretched the golden-green foliage, undulating like a great shimmering sea above the forest. Aeslin had never seen the sea, but she could scarcely imagine it being more beautiful. In the distance they could almost make out the Anduin and Silverlode rivers cutting through the forest, and beyond that—

"What is that over there? On the horizon?" Arwen followed her companion's gaze to the east, where a great dark smudge covered the juncture between earth and sky. Her face fell a little before she turned back to Aeslin, whose eyes were still fixed on the horizon.

"That is the Southernmost part of Mirkwood." Surprise registered briefly on Aeslin's features, but she kept her composure. They sat in silence for a while, Aeslin never taking her eyes off the distant forest, and Arwen rarely taking her eyes from Aeslin.

"It is so close, and yet I am still so far from it. I begin to wonder if I shall ever see my home again." Arwen wrapped her arm around the younger elf, her lovely face still cast with concern.

"I am sure that you will see it again someday. Your father—"

"—does not want me to return to Mirkwood." Aeslin's expression was distant, hiding her reactions from Arwen.

"Aeslin, you know that's not true. He fears for you. He has already lost his wife; he does not want to lose you." Aeslin gave a bitter smile.

"There is much I don't know, Arwen," Aeslin said softly, her words sad and final. The older elf stood suddenly, pulling Aeslin up with her and taking her to the easternmost edge of the flet.

"I may not know everything, or even the things you know, Aeslin. But this I do know." She turned and pointed toward Mirkwood. "You see that Mountain? I have heard both my father and my grandfather speak of a darkness growing there; a shadow that poisons Mirkwood. Evil festers there, and your father is hard pressed to keep his people safe nearly a hundred leagues away. I do not think you would recognize Mirkwood were you to return." Aeslin's gaze finally turned from her home to face Arwen. Grief was written in her eyes, but she remained collected.

"Nevertheless, Mirkwood is still my home." Arwen closed her eyes, defeated.

A short while later, they departed Cerin Amroth.


	9. Chapter 8

**Unveiling**

Thanks to her extensive knowledge of healer's lore, Aeslin soon carved out a place for herself as a prominent healer in Caras Galadhon. Many came to her for healing and advice, and she gave it without compunction. She grew into herself in Lorien, and her strength and power grew with her until she came to be nearly as renowned as Lord Elrond within the City of Trees. She was granted her own private flet near The Lord and Lady of Lorien's, and periodically Arwen would come to stay with her.

Her friendship with her mentor's daughter never waned, though the healer never again accompanied Arwen to Cerin Amroth after that first occasion. She had no desire to remind herself of what she couldn't have by gazing at Mirkwood from afar. Still, she often wandered under the cover of the trees with her friend, rejoicing that she was not alone. Even after realizing how close she was to home, she did not grow discontented. The Golden Wood saw to that. She was happy among the mallorn-trees, and it felt like home in a way Rivendell never quite had. In many ways even, she barely missed Imladris; it was only the people within it she yearned to see again.

* * *

It was long time before she saw Haldir or his brothers again, and when she eventually did, meetings were few and far between, with little time for conversation. Over time, though, she had come to know Orophin's wife, Lostariel. Often the two of them would sit together, reading and talking. Periodically Rumil's wife, Melima, and their young son Veryan, would accompany Lostariel, but more often than not it was just the two of them, especially when Orophin was on rotation at the borders of Lorien.

It was late in the day, and Aeslin was walking alone through the gardens on the northern side of the City, taking advantage of the solitude to gather a few samples of medicinal herbs for her flet. The Forest was quiet around her, the only sounds being that of the wind through the leaves and the whispers of forest. It was peaceful and relaxing among the pungent plant-life around her. It wasn't until the sun began to set that she felt any inclination to return to her quarters, and even then, the coolness of the night was pleasant.

Satisfied with her gathering of plant materials, she soon made her way back to the centre of the city, only to be delayed by a sudden flux of elves streaming down the main path through the city. Among them was Lostariel, her face pinched with concern. Aeslin's curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she followed the crowd to the City's entrance.

As it was, it was lucky that she had done so. Coming through the gate was a sizable group of Lorien's border guards, several of them wounded. Her healer's instincts coming to the fore, Aeslin rushed forward, coming to rest beside the nearest of the wounded. He was young, and badly hurt with a deep gash across his temple and a gaping, ragged slash on his leg. Around her were cries of concern, fear and anger. From the far side of the court, she could hear Celeborn arriving, demanding to know what was happening. Aeslin however, was already moving from elf to elf, assessing injuries and beginning to direct the other healers that were appearing. One by one, injuries were tended to. Thankfully, most weren't terribly severe; the only exceptions were the young elf Aeslin had looked at first and another, older elf with a deep sword-slash across his belly.

It was to this elf that Aeslin was tending. Though she was one of the younger healers within Caras Galadhon, her extensive training under Elrond and her own natural talent made her one of the strongest healers around. So it was that the most seriously wounded elf fell under her care. She was in the process of directing his transport to her flet when Haldir came to stand beside her, Rumil and Orophin both close behind. A moment later Lostariel joined them as well, briefly embracing Orophin in relief.

"What happened here?" Aeslin turned her pale eyes to the Marchwarden, taking in his anxious features in a single glance.

"A large party of Orcs out of Moria threatened to breach our borders. For that travesty, they now lay dead, but not before causing the injury you see here." He looked down at the elf now being lifted from the ground. Rumil and Orophin jumped forward to help, each taking hold to carry the wounded elf from the City's entrance. Haldir's face was troubled. Aeslin reached out, laying a gentle hand on his arm before following her patient.

It didn't take long to reach her flet, and Aeslin went straight to work, removing the elf's jerkin and tunic with Orophin and Lostariel's help. It took all her training to keep herself from shaking in fear as she surveyed the wound. Never had she seen an injury quite so severe, and never before had she doubted her ability to heal it. Haldir and Rumil stood off to the side, trying to stay out of the way. When Aeslin turned away to gather her supplies, the Marchwarden went to her side, speaking in a soft voice.

"Can you heal him?" Her face was grave as she met his gaze. Taking a deep breath, lest her voice should betray the depth of her anxiety, she looked over her shoulder at the wounded elf before turning back to Haldir.

"He is very badly wounded." Despite her efforts, her tone said it all. He nodded in solemn understanding, not saying another word as Aeslin turned to begin her ministrations.

* * *

A while later Aeslin sat outside on the edge of her flet, gazing down at the view below her. Lines of small candles made a beautiful river of light through the main avenues of the dark city while mournful songs drifted on the night air. She felt tired and worn, sorrow bleeding through her calm demeanor. No matter what she had tried, the elf under her care, named Haerion as she discovered, had bled out under her hands. The moment he passed, she had nearly collapsed, the shock of his death nearly overwhelming her. With a small cry, her legs had buckled beneath her, and she would've fallen had it not been for Orophin rushing forward to support her. Never before had she lost one of her patients. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever known. Guilt plagued her, tormenting her. In her mind's eye she could still see his face, cold and frozen in death, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. She had tried so hard to save him.

She didn't know how long she sat there, but eventually the threads of song quieted and the candles became fewer and farther between. As the last few candles disappeared into the night, Haldir joined her. Startled, she looked up as he settled beside her, looking down upon the last few flickering lights as she had. When he didn't say anything, she turned her gaze back to the forest floor, now bathed only in the light from the moon and the faint glow that came from the flets across the city.

"I am sorry." Aeslin was the first to break the silence, her voice soft and full of sorrow. Haldir looked over in surprise. "I could not save him. I tried but I could not." Since the moment she lost Haerion, she had not shed a single tear. The shock had been too great. Now, the guilt she felt overwhelmed her, causing her tears to come forth, spilling onto her cheeks, leaving their glistening tracks behind them. Impulsively, Haldir raised his hand, brushing them away, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment before he withdrew, embarrassed by the liberty he had just taken. Aeslin looked over to him, surprise joining the sadness that graced her features. When Haldir finally spoke, his voice was gentle.

"It was not your doing that he passed." Her eyes closed in pain, trying to believe what he said. "You did everything you could. There isn't a healer in Caras Galadhon who could have done more." The tears once again began to flow. He watched her for a moment more.

"It is always difficult, losing one you are responsible for. The pain cuts deep. It is something you carry for the rest of your life." It was then she heard the pain in his voice, causing her to feel guiltier still. Haerion had been one of Haldir's men, and it had barely occurred to her that he would be feeling the elf's loss as well.

"Did he have any family?" Haldir sighed.

"He did, a wife. Sanya." Aeslin turned to the Marchwarden, a frown forming on her face at the tone of his voice. Haldir looked down at the forest floor again, his eyes unfocused. "She passed shortly after he did." Aeslin's breath hitched.

"What?" He turned to her.

"Their bond was strong, linking their lives together so fully, that she felt his death as her own." Aeslin felt her chest constrict, drawing breath with difficulty. She got to her feet, turning from the edge of the flet. Haldir watched, startled at her sudden movement.

"So, I cost his wife her life as well." She was barely able to choke out the words. Standing himself, he was at her side in an instant, turning her to face him.

"No." She stared at him wide-eyed, grief dominating her features. "No, it was not your doing. The Orcs that did this are to blame." The anger in his voice startled her out of her panic, allowing her to regain control of herself. Pulling away, she sat on the bench next to the door of her quarters. After a moment he sat beside her, his voice far more gentle than a moment earlier.

"You still have much to learn, my young healer. You cannot carry all the woes of this world on your shoulders. It would destroy you." She barely even registered it when he referred to her as young, exhausted as she was. But his words struck a chord within her, calming her. Without thinking, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Surprised, Haldir looked down at her white-blonde head, but made no move to stop her.

Eventually her breathing slowed as an exhausted sleep overtook her, but still Haldir didn't move for fear of waking her. An unexpected urge to protect her, to watch over her had taken hold. So he just sat next to her, watching the night pass around them.

* * *

It was the first touch of sunlight that woke Aeslin the next morning. Blinking against the sudden brightness, it took her a moment to recall where she was. Straightening, she remembered the day previous, and the heartache that still lingered within her; thankfully, the sorrow that had nearly consumed her the night before didn't seem quite so unrelenting in the morning light.

It was then that Haldir stirred beside her.

Surprised that he had stayed with her, as if guarding her as she slept, Aeslin felt a tenderness wake in her that she had never encountered before. He still slept, a peacefulness infusing his features that brought a smile to her face. Driven by a sudden curiosity, she reached out, tracing her fingers over his jaw line. His skin was soft and warm. Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, her eyes travelled over his face, examining his features. That he was handsome went without saying, for elves were naturally the fairest of beings. His hair was a pale gold, though nowhere as pale as hers, and his features were strong, almost severely so. His blue eyes added to his serious bearing when they were open, but she remembered they were also capable of great tenderness as well.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Haldir stirred again, this time breaking free of his slumber. Immediately, Aeslin withdrew her hand, backing away slightly as he woke. Blinking for a moment in the bright sun, as she had, he turned to face her, his expression unreadable. Aeslin looked on, a faint curiosity blooming on her features. Until now, though she had come to count him as a friend, he had always remained proud, distant and detached, even in his kindness. But he had stayed with her.

The same thought seemed to occur to him, and for the briefest of moments a flicker of embarrassment came over his features before his usual proud expression was fixed in place. Without a word, he stood, and made to leave, stopping only once to give her a curt nod of regard before disappearing down the flight of stairs that attached her flet to the rest. Stunned, Aeslin could only sit next to his recently vacated seat for a long while.

* * *

That night, she joined Arwen and Galadriel after the evening meal in Galadriel's private sitting room. Celeborn had gone out to the border to see what damage had been done, and to consult with the remaining border-guards. Aeslin had already received condolences for the loss of her patient, and had been assured that his death was not her doing. The oppressive ache was still raw, but she was coping, and the kind words of those around her further soothed the sense of guilt churning within her. But, despite all that, she was also concerned by Haldir's sudden change of attitude toward her.

Before this last meeting, they had always parted on good terms, or so she thought. Now, he would not even meet her eye. She had seen him at midday before he left with Celeborn, returning to join the border-guards. He did not spare her a single glance, pointedly ignoring her. She thought about this at great length as she sat with Galadriel and Arwen, holding a book she was trying to read.

"I have never known you to read slowly, Aeslin, and you have been staring at that same page for a long time." Aeslin blinked, as if woken from a doze by Arwen's wondering tone. Lifting her gaze to the two elves across from her, she searched for a plausible explanation, but nothing came.

"I suppose I am distracted." Arwen seemed satisfied with her answer, likely attributing Aeslin's distraction to the past day's events. In a way she would be right. Galadriel, however, did not look convinced. She didn't say a word, though, not for a long time.

The evening wore on, and having been called on her inattention. Aeslin set her book aside, and turned to gazing out at the lights of Caras Galadhon instead.

"He is grateful," Aeslin turned abruptly as Galadriel spoke, her clear eyes boring into the healer's, "even though you could not save Haerion." Arwen looked on, unsure whom Galadriel spoke of. Aeslin, however, knew exactly what the Lady meant, and she didn't look convinced.

"He would not even look at me. That does not seem like gratitude." The Lady of Light smiled faintly.

"Haldir has never been one to flaunt his feelings, he keeps them hidden, afraid that they could become a weakness. He respects your strength, and your determination to heal Haerion, even when it became clear he was lost." Aeslin stood pacing slowly over to look absently out into the deepening night, thinking on what Galadriel had said. After a moment, Aeslin smiled in a rather self-deprecating way.

"I am not even sure why this bothers me so," she said quietly to herself. "I have little need of his approval, and yet…" her features took on look of deep thought, "…I find I desire it greatly. Why is that?" She turned back to Galadriel, her final question aimed at the older elf. She was answered with a knowing smile.

"That is something you must discover for yourself, little one." Aeslin sighed in frustration, sitting back down again. Arwen looked at Galadriel, a questioning look on her face. The knowing smile still gracing her features, older elf shared a glance with her granddaughter before turning her attention back to the embroidery in her hands.

* * *

After that day, Aeslin wouldn't see Haldir again for a time, but she found her thoughts turning to him repeatedly. It was now his face that haunted her, the stony, emotionless expression he'd had the last time she had seen him. It was so very different from the tender look in his eyes the night before, or the smile she had earned from him on her first morning in Lorien.

A little over a week after Haerion's death Aeslin found Orophin taking respite in one of the more secluded groves of Caras Galadhon. She came upon him completely by chance. He didn't notice her at first, and Aeslin was hesitant to disturb him, no matter her curiosity about his brother. He looked deep in thought, and more sedate than she'd ever seen him before. She was just about to move on when he caught sight of her, his expression brightening considerably.

"Lady Aeslin, it is a bright day indeed to see you here." Aeslin couldn't help but smile at his upbeat manner.

"Orophin, you flatter me too much, but it is good to see you."

"I trust you are well?" She could tell from the searching look in his eyes that he was not just asking an idle question. She smiled faintly.

"Well enough. What of you? You knew Haerion, you knew his wife. This cannot be an easy time for you." The sadness she had seen moments earlier returned as he lowered his eyes, obviously still caught within a net of grief.

"Yes, I knew them both. I was honoured to call them friends."

"I am sorry for your loss, Orophin. Truly, I am." He smiled at her sincerity, grateful for her understanding. Walking forward, he took her hand, placing a gentle kiss upon it.

"You are a gift, surely, Lady Aeslin. Your kindness is outshone only by your skill and your beauty." She smiled, flattered by his words.

"And you are far too kind to me, Orophin."

"If my brother would only admit to what I already know, he would claim you before anyone else has a chance." Shock coursed through Aeslin, wiping the smile from her face.

"I beg your pardon? What do you mean by that?" Orophin smiled, taking Aeslin's hands gently in his own, keeping her in front of him.

"I believe my brother is falling in love with you, my lovely Aeslin, he is just too stubborn to see it." Aeslin couldn't help but scoff at his assertion, but a flush rose to her cheeks anyway.

"He is not in love with me. He can't even look at me." Orophin laughed.

"Yes, he denies it; that much is true. Haldir has hidden his feelings away for so long that he is convinced he doesn't really feel anything anymore. You make him uneasy, Lady Healer, you and your quiet ways, your stubborn streak, all of it. He has come to care for you a great deal, and it's something he's not used to." His words scared her a little, her unease apparent on her face.

"I do not mean to do so."

"I know," he assured her, "truly. I think that is what bothers him most. You have no idea of the effect you have on him. Trust me when I say this, Aeslin. I know my brother, and I know what it is to fall in love. When I met my Lostariel, my world changed." She pulled her hands from his, backing away slowly. A curious expression came over Orophin's face as he watched her turn to leave.

"You are falling in love with him too, aren't you." She spun around to face him, her eyes wide and alarmed. When she didn't answer, he laughed softly. "No, I think you are in love already." By now her bewilderment was getting the better of her. Without even saying goodbye she turned and fled, not stopping until she reached her flet, and even then she kept going.


	10. Chapter 9

**Revelations and Explanations**

Before she knew it, Aeslin had reached Galadriel's sitting room. She knew she probably shouldn't barge in without invitation, but her mind was in turmoil, to say nothing of her heart.

She flew through the door, coming to a sudden halt just past the entrance. Galadriel sat with a small book in her hand, while Celeborn sat off to the side, obviously seeing to correspondence.

"My Lady, I am in need of your counsel." She was out of breath, though her heart was pounding for a far different reason. Celeborn looked up, concern written upon his face at her sudden appearance. Galadriel, on the other hand, looked completely nonplussed. In fact, she almost appeared to have been expecting Aeslin to come running in.

Closing her book with care, she stood, giving her husband a reassuring glance before walking forward and guiding Aeslin out of the room. The two began to walk, Galadriel leading the way, although Aeslin suspected there was no real destination in mind. The younger elf held her tongue, afraid of what she might blurt out on impulse.

"You have been speaking with Orophin," the Lady said mildly, as though she were remarking upon something as apparent as the weather. Aeslin drew a shaky breath. She was well used to the Lady's near omnipotence by now, but it still always took her off guard.

"Yes, I have. He said some—some very curious things."

"Curious, how so?" Aeslin looked up at the Lady beside her. Galadriel wore a serene expression, though the faint smile on her lips hinted at something akin to amusement. The young healer knew the Lady was perfectly aware of what Orophin had said, but was waiting for Aeslin to recount it anyway.

"He said Haldir is falling in love with me."

"Oh?" Galadriel's tone was one of feigned surprise, causing Aeslin to frown in exasperation. "Was that all?"

"No," Aeslin admitted after a moment, "he also said I was falling in love Haldir myself." Galadriel looked pleased.

"And that frightens you." It was a statement of fact, one that Aeslin was hard pressed to deny. Tentatively she nodded, once again afraid of what might pass her lips were she to open them. Galadriel lifted the book in her hands, seeming to examine the binding as they walked.

"That is one thing poems of love and songs of romance fail to say." She stopped, turning to face the young elf beside her. Aeslin watched her in fascination. "Falling in love is frightening. It is new and different, a startling feeling to encounter for the first time. Especially for our race, for we love deeply. But it is also wonderful. Embrace it, Aeslin; do not fear love when you meet it, for meet it you will." With a reassuring smile, Galadriel touched Aeslin's face before turning and walking back the way they had come.

Aeslin on the other had, stood where they stopped for several moments longer. Eventually though, she too started walking again, and she didn't stop for a long time. Her thoughts were full of Orophin's words and Galadriel's. One thing was clear, though; that her thoughts kept returning Haldir meant something. She just needed to see him again to find out what.

* * *

Several months passed, and Aeslin still had not seen Haldir, much less had a chance to speak with him. Her time was spent tending to her duties as a healer and keeping company with Arwen and, on occasion, Galadriel. She didn't speak of Haldir, or of her feelings for him. She kept that to herself, safely hidden away until she could discover the truth of the matter. Thankfully, she had learned patience long ago, though the limits to that patience were being severely tested.

It was only when she began to wonder he was ever going to return from the border that she finally saw him again. Her frustration beginning to get the better of her, she had taken to long walks to try and clear her mind, wandering through Lorien itself, beyond the City of Trees. It was during one of these walks that she found her way to the banks of the Silverlode River. Pleasantly surprised to have come across the River, she settled herself on the bank; content to listen to the gentle song of the water and the pleasing harmony of the trees joining in. It was peaceful there. Elves floated on the river in beautifully crafted boats, laughing and singing along with the melodies of the forest.

She stayed there for the rest of the day; watching, listening, trying not to think of much of anything. She was, for once, quite content to do nothing but revel in the forest around her, bolstered by the enduring strength of Golden Wood. Dusk came, and, not long after, night fell. Overhead the Moon rose, and the first of the evening stars began to appear. The boats on the river became fewer, but those that remained glowed in the moonlight, flickering candles appearing on their prows.

"I saw a star rise high in the /Evening sky, /It hung like a jewel, /Softly shining."* Aeslin was too at peace to be startled, but smiled instead as the velvet voice seemed to melt out of the darkness. Turning she saw Haldir standing in the shadow of the trees, looking up at the sky.

"And there I thought you did not approve of such frivolity," she said playfully, earning a small smile from the Marchwarden. "We need to stop meeting like this, with you sneaking up on me." His face once again grew serious as his gaze came to rest on her. She gestured beside her, "Will you not come sit?"

"I do not think it wise." Aeslin frowned at his tone, turning back to face the river.

"Oh? Why would that be?"

"We are very different." She sensed his answer referred to more than just her question. Her chest tightened, making speech difficult.

"Is that so bad?" When he didn't answer, she turned to look at him again. Still, he stood leaning against one of the trees lining the riverbank. "Surely we are not so different as you think." He sighed, his serious expression turning to one she couldn't quite read.

"I am not so sure of that." He was starting to make her nervous with his vague answers. Standing, she pushed those nerves aside and all but marched over to him, coming to stand so close to him they almost touched. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, but he did not move otherwise.

"Try me," she said simply. He stared down at her, his blue eyes piercing in the dim light.

"For one, you are a Sindarin of Mirkwood, and I a Silvan of Lothlorien. I am a Warrior, you a Healer. That alone is difference enough." Aeslin's eyes widened with incredulity. She pointedly chose to ignore his mention of her heritage and his.

"Truly, that is your answer? For it seems complimentary to me. If you are injured in battle, I shall be able to heal you, and you can protect me, should I need it. Besides, I have a measure of warrior blood in me. Don't forget, I did save your life once." He fought the hint of a smile growing on his face.

"You are still very young." She scoffed, but he continued. "While I was old even before you were even born." She laughed quietly, suddenly feeling a new, almost reckless confidence that surprised her.

"We are of a race of immortals. Age is of little consequence to us. We will all be old before long." In the moonlight, she was so fair that she seemed to glow. Haldir was still for a long time, looking down at her delicate features, which were suddenly suffused with assurance and tenderness. He had been driven to distraction by the memory of her for a great many nights now. Every time he closed his eyes he recalled the wondering expression on her face the morning after Haerion's death. She had been bathed in sunlight then.

"I fear this, where letting myself care for you might lead." He was hesitant to speak, barely audible amid the sounds of the forest. He feared her reaction, and she could see it in his eyes.

"I was told once that to fall in love is frightening, but one must accept it, for the reward is far beyond wonderful" Her voice had become soft, gentle even.

"Aeslin…" Her gaze didn't waver as he whispered her name. Slowly, his hand came up to trace her cheek, his fingers resting on her skin.

"You don't seem convinced by these differences you speak of." She looked up at him with such conviction, her voice breathless. He shook his head, slowly.

"Perhaps you are a great deal wiser than I am." She laughed again.

"Perhaps." The conviction in her eyes slowly turned to wonder and mirth. "At the very least, The Lady is a great deal wiser than the both of us." This time it was Haldir's turn to laugh.

"Of that there is no doubt."

"Are you going to kiss me now?" In lieu of words, he leaned in instead, pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled away, she smiled, before reaching up to trace her own fingers across his features. With a sparkle in her eye, she pulled him down for another.

* * *

He escorted her home that night, leaving her at her flet with another tender embrace, lingering to kiss her one last time before retreating to his own quarters. Aeslin positively glowed with his attention, watching him go with delight shining in her eyes. Galadriel had been right on all counts, and Aeslin's fear had long since vanished, replaced instead with a growing elation that she fostered deep in her heart.

Haldir also, began to feel a blossoming of some stronger emotion. He was lighthearted for the first time in many years, hope shining in his eyes. Still, his habits ran deep, and it was not long before his usual grave mask was fixed firmly in place, though he held his feelings for Aeslin close, hiding them from others, keeping them safe and protected. It was obvious, though, that something in him had changed, something that his brothers noticed almost immediately. Orophin beamed when he noticed, a pleased smile on his face that Haldir would have been tempted to wipe off had it not been for his good mood. Rumil had a little more tact, and kept his satisfaction at his brother's good fortune to himself.

The next day, and the day after, and for many more that followed, Haldir spent his free time with Aeslin, joining her on her long walks or on her wanderings in search of medicinal plants. In wasn't long before whispers were flying through Caras Galadhon saying that Lorien's reclusive Marchwarden had finally fallen in love. Indeed, the idea inspired a great deal of curiosity, as he was the last of his brothers to do so despite being the eldest, for both of his brothers had married long ago.

However, their long days wandering beneath the bowers of The City of Trees could not last forever, and soon Haldir was expected to resume his duties on the borders of Lorien. It would be a further three months at least before he returned from his rotation.

On the last night before returning to the borders, he sat with Aeslin in one of the many secluded groves of the City. In the centre of the grove was a fountain, its spouts of water glistening in the faint light coming from the City proper. Other than the gentle fall of water, it was quiet. Aeslin sat nestled against Haldir, watching the water shimmer and dance while he held her close. The Marchwarden also watched the water, though he was deep in thought.

Eventually, Aeslin sighed, knowing she could not put off the inevitable. As she pulled away, Haldir watched her with questioning eyes, keeping hold on her hand as she stood. She turned back to face him, first looking to their entwined fingers, a trace of sadness written on her face.

"The hour grows late, and you need to rest before you leave tomorrow." A flicker of disappointment appeared in his eyes, but Haldir smiled, pulling Aeslin to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. She protested for a moment, though she did not complain, eventually leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"It is not so late yet." He whispered, reaching up to stroke her cheek. She sighed, leaning against him. It was several more long moments before he spoke again.

"Whose blessing must I ask to marry you, Aeslin of Mirkwood?" She straightened abruptly, startled by his question. He held her gaze, the sincerity of his query causing her heart to pound. A smile came to her face.

"Truly?" He nodded, returning her smile before growing serious again.

"Yes. I wish to be yours," he murmured. She leaned forward again, giving him a long, lingering kiss. He laughed when they parted. "You haven't answered my question. Is there someone I should ask to marry you?" She grew thoughtful for a moment, tracing Haldir's jaw and pointed ear with gentle fingers. Sadness flickered in her eyes, but was soon replaced with the love that Haldir was becoming accustomed to seeing there.

"I am ward to Lord Elrond, and he has become more of a father to me than a mentor and I love him thus. It is he you should ask."

"What of your parents?" The sadness returned, accompanied with a flash of distaste.

"My Mother is dead, and my Father sent me away, for he saw me as a burden. Because of him I have not seen the land of my birth in over three centuries. I will not give him power over this, over our love." Her voice was bitter, but when she continued her happiness had returned. "But Lorien is my home now. No one sees me as a burden here. In Lorien I found you, Haldir of the Golden Wood." She smiled to herself. Haldir though, sensed that the bitterness he'd heard in her voice ran deep, and an ache formed in his heart. They had never truly spoken of her family, as she always managed to deflect or steer the conversation elsewhere. This was the first he'd heard for certain that her mother was dead; he had even wondered for a time if both her parents were gone. He had suspected she harbored grief at the thought of them, but this was far more than he had ever really considered.

"I cannot believe your Father could see you as a burden." Her smile vanished to be replaced with a look of detachment as he probed further, determined not to let her shrug off speaking of them this time. "There must be more to it than that, for how could anyone want to send you away." She heard his concern, and his genuine wish to understand, but her exile from Mirkwood was still a sore spot for her. Pulling away she stood again, walking closer to the fountain. Haldir stood, watching her with wary eyes. Eventually she sat on the stone ledge, letting her fingers dip in the cool water.

"He did. He played on my desire to become a healer, finding an excuse to be rid of me. I was young…so young." Grief choked her for an instant, but she fought it back with her resentment. Haldir came to sit beside her, but she refused to look at him, afraid of the reaction she'd see. He had opened the floodgates, though, and she found that she could not stop.

"He believed me too young—too weak—to live amid the Forests of Mirkwood, so he sent me to Rivendell under the pretense that I learn from the best Healer Middle Earth had to offer. My brother fought this, I know in my heart he did not wish to see me go. I lived in Rivendell for well over two centuries, near three, learning what I could, until there was no more Elrond could teach me. Then it came out that, even once I completed my studies, my Father did not wish me to return." Punctuating her last, anguished words, she slapped her hand through the water, watching the splash arc through the air before falling back among the Fountain's spurts. Haldir could feel the pain bleeding from her as she sat, curling into herself, feeling his own temper stir at his newly beloved's despair. He reached out, taking her hand from where it clutched the hard edge of the fountain. She looked up at him, desperation in her eyes.

"I fear being left alone again, abandoned. I never want to feel that emptiness again." Tears shimmered in her eyes as she spoke, her voice hitching with sadness. He pulled her into his arms.

"You won't be. I won't leave you, I would never send you away as he did. But you are still loved, Aeslin; by Elrond, his children, The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, Orophin and Lostariel … they all love you, and so do I." he laid a kiss on her brow, inhaling her sweet scent before speaking again. "You will never be truly alone again. When I return from this rotation, we shall travel to Rivendell. It would seem I have business with Lord Elrond." Aeslin nestled closer, knowing in her heart that he meant every word.

* * *

The next morning, Aeslin woke early. In a flash, she had prepared herself for the day and all but flew down to the city entrance. As she expected, the new rotation of border-guards was preparing to depart to relieve their fellows. Haldir stood at the head of the group, speaking it several of his men. Upon seeing Aeslin approach though, he excused himself, coming to meet her before she had even spotted him. Sedately, he kissed her cheek, careful not to overstep the lines of politeness. His eyes, however, told a different tale, for they had lit up as soon as he saw her.

"I have made the preparations. When I return, we shall travel to Imladris." She smiled, looking down at the hands that clasped hers.

"Go then. I'll be here when you return. You have my love, Haldir." On impulse, all sense of decorum forgotten, Haldir swept her into one last kiss. He knew he was not likely to hear the end of it, but he did not care. She was worth it. Besides, he had every intention of pledging himself to her, so there was little to hold him back so far as he was concerned.

After one last farewell, he departed, pointedly ignoring the looks of amusement on his brothers' faces. Aeslin couldn't help but smile when Orophin turned her way, dipping his head in what only could be described as thanks. Lostariel, having already farewelled her husband, came to stand beside the young healer as the Marchwarden and his border-guards moved out.

"At last," was all she said, watching her husband until he was out of sight. Aeslin turned to her, a faint look of confusion on her face. Glimpsing the expression out of the corner of her eye, Lostariel continued, a look of amusement akin to her husband's on her face.

"At last, someone has melted our dear Marchwarden's heart of stone." Aeslin made an exasperated sound of protest at the comment, but her friend cut her off. "I only mean that we have all waited a long time for him to find someone to love. I'm very happy for you, Aeslin." The healer thanked her friend before departing from the City's entrance herself.

By evening, the glow of Haldir's promise was beginning to dim as Aeslin faced being parted from him for the next several months. But, she knew life had to go on, and that before she knew it, he would return. Besides, she was going to have to get used to it; after all, his rotations on the border were going to be a constant in her life once she married him.

She made her way up to Galadriel's sitting room where she was to spend the evening with the Lady and Arwen. Upon entering the room, she was beset upon by Arwen, who enfolded her in a joyful hug. Behind her, Galadriel stood, her own pleased smile lighting her features. Celeborn sat nearby, mirroring his wife's satisfaction, though his was a little more reserved. Aeslin was in a state of surprise having not expected Arwen's greeting.

"Congratulations, Aeslin. I knew you would not regret coming to Lorien."

"Indeed." The healer was still a little disoriented, and found herself unable to put more than a word or two together. Once Arwen retreated, Galadriel stepped forward, taking Aeslin's face in her hands.

"You will be very happy, child." The younger elf smiled, regaining control of herself.

"Thank you, My Lady, for your advice." Galadriel laughed, sounding as melodious as a song as she withdrew her hands.

"Love is precious, Aeslin, daughter of Thranduil." Her face grew serious, "especially in the dark days ahead." Aeslin frowned, but Galadriel didn't elaborate, the smile returning to her face.

"You need not worry about that now, my dear Aeslin." Celeborn rose from his seat, coming to stand next to his wife. They exchanged a long look, during which a great many things seemed to pass. Arwen took little notice, instead taking Aeslin's hand and pulling her away.

"You must tell me everything! I am dying to know!"

* * *

*(Translated) From the lyrics of "Twilight and Shadow," from the Soundtrack of The Return of the King


	11. Chapter 10

**Secrets and Understandings**

As she suspected, though the next several months were hard, they passed by quickly. Before she knew it, the time came for Haldir to return from the borders of the wood. It was early evening, and Aeslin was reading in her flet. Her patience was waning though, and every few minutes she would rise, slip outside to see if she could see him ascending the stairs, before scolding herself and going back inside to wait only to repeat the pattern several minutes later.

Eventually, she rose and, upon reaching the edge of her flet and looking toward the City's entrance, neglected to return inside. Instead, she sat on the bench outside the door, waiting in the dimming light. The lights of Lorien soon lit up the night and Aeslin found her mind wandering.

Movement on the stairs soon caught her attention, and as she stood, the very elf she had been waiting for appeared on the landing. A smile springing to her face, she rushed forward, catching him by surprise. No sooner had she reached his arms than he was enfolding her in his embrace.

The rest of the evening was passed in recounting their time apart. Haldir told of the teasing he had endured, a twinkle in his eye telling her he hadn't really minded all that much. Apparently Orophin especially was unrelenting, reminding his older brother repeatedly that is was deserved. After all, Haldir had once supposedly given Orophin a hard time after a particularly tender farewell to Lostariel. Aeslin laughed long and hard at that, easily picturing Orophin mimicking Haldir's grim manner. Haldir had not been quite so amused, but even he had to own that it was funny.

Aeslin's recounts were not quite as interesting. Very little had really happened since Haldir's departure. She told him of the satisfied, almost smug look on Galadriel's face as well as Arwen's excitement, when they discovered Aeslin and Haldir's troth. There was not much to say after that, and eventually, Aeslin looked up to see Haldir's eyes had drifted shut. Content to stay next to him, she laid her head on his shoulder, eventually drifting off herself.

* * *

As planned, a couple days after Haldir's return, they set out for Rivendell. This time both Rumil and Orophin accompanied them. They travelled swiftly, passing quickly over the territories north of Lothlorien. Thankfully, their journey through the Mountains was a great deal less exciting than Aeslin's previous experience, and neither Goblins nor Orcs appeared to hinder their journey. Before long, they came upon a familiar sight. In the distance stood Imladris, standing amid its protective wreath of cliffs and waterfalls. The entrance was just as she last remembered it, as was the courtyard, complete with some of the dearest of her friends.

There, ready to welcome her back, was Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. The instant she caught sight of them, a smile bloomed on her face. She was patient, though, and waited until she drew closer to dismount. By this time, Elrohir had come forward, standing at Aeslin's knee and prepared to help her down. Once her feet touched the ground, she pulled her adoptive brother into a hug.

"I have missed you, brother of my heart." Elrohir laughed.

"I should hope so, my sweet elfling." He teased, drawing a laugh from the healer, "It has been entirely too dull here without you."

"And entirely too noisy! Elrohir only goes about now, lamenting that he has no one to tease!" Elladan had appeared beside them, interjecting loudly, causing them all to burst out laughing.

"Do not fear, Elladan, I have missed you too," Aeslin laughed as the second brother also welcomed her with a hug. As soon as he released her, they turned back to Elrond, who stood patiently waiting to be remembered, an indulgent smile on his face. As the brothers guided her toward her former mentor, Aeslin was compelled to look over her shoulder, making sure Haldir wasn't far behind. The three Lorien brothers had dismounted, and were waiting politely for the reunion to run its course. Haldir bore a faint smile on his face, but he still looked wary. Aeslin could tell that he was delighted to see her so happy, but she also had the sense that he was still battling fears that what they had was too good to be true. She gave him reassuring smile of her own before turning to be welcomed by Elrond.

As she stood before her former mentor, Aeslin realized just how much she had missed his reassuring presence. Without a word, Elrond opened his arms to her, an invitation she gladly accepted.

"It is good to see you again, child," he said quietly, his soothing voice just as warm as she remembered. Aeslin pulled back, looking up into his smiling face. His expression changed slightly as he surveyed her features, a questioning look entering his eyes. "There is something changed in you." After another moment, he looked up, as if remembering Aeslin wasn't the only new arrival. Stepping to the side, Aeslin also turned to the Lorien elves, her gaze naturally drawn to Haldir.

The three of them stepped forward, Haldir in front, and each gave a short bow of respect to the Master of Rivendell. Elrond welcomed them with an easy smile, though his gaze also lingered on Haldir.

"You are welcome in Imladris, Brothers of Lorien. Come, we shall retire inside." Still considering Lorien's Marchwarden, Elrond offered Aeslin his hand, leading them all inside.

* * *

Aeslin rose the next morning in the room she had known for more than two centuries while she studied in Rivendell. But the room, while still so familiar, no longer felt quite the same as it once did. It still brought back a great many memories though. Rising, she followed the same routine she had every morning when still living in Imladris, laughing to herself at how easy it was to fall back into habits barely thought of since. Dressing in one of her old gowns, she stepped out into the familiar halls, not realizing she was searching for anything until she found it. The Dining Hall was nowhere near full, early as it was, but Rumil, Elrohir and Elladan had already risen, as had Haldir. None of them noticed her approach until she had nearly reached them.

"Good morning." She stopped next to Haldir, who rose when he caught sight of her. A tender smile appeared on his face when she met his glance. Without a word, she took a seat next to him, earning a puzzled frown from Elrohir, while Elladan managed to withhold his curiosity a little better. She also noticed that Rumil was hiding a smile of his own, obviously amused that he was privy to something the Rivendell twins did not know. She was enjoying the looks on her adoptive brother's faces entirely too much to do anything though. She said very little over breakfast, further frustrating the curiosity obviously gnawing at the dark-haired brothers.

After finishing her meal. She demurely asked Elladan if his father was occupied at this hour. She could see that he debated whether or not to tell her without getting answers of his own first.

"No, he should be in his study. Why do you ask?" Deftly deflecting his question with a smile and thanks, she rose from the table, looking to the Lorien elf beside her. Haldir, like his brother, was withholding his amusement, with only his eyes betraying his mirth. Seeing Aeslin rise beside him, he looked up at her questioningly. Nodding slightly, she held out her hand, grinning when he took it.

The instant they left the Hall, she could hear Elrohir begin to question Rumil about what just occurred. She started to laugh when they passed out of hearing range, but not before hearing Rumil flat out deny noticing anything odd, earning a cry of disbelief from Elrohir and Elladan together. Beside her, Haldir also began to laugh, though somewhat more sedately than Aeslin. He stopped mid-step, and in one swift movement turned her so that she ended up within his embrace.

"Good morning," he said, a smile coming to his lips. She laughed when he then placed a light kiss upon each of her cheeks.

"And to think I ever thought you were dour." He raised his eyebrows at her statement, an expression of mock seriousness coming to his face. She laughed harder.

"Dour, me? Well, I should think so." After kissing her soundly, he released her, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. "Shall we off to see Master Elrond, My Lady Aeslin?" he asked, affectionately gazing down at her. Placing her own expression of light solemnity on her features she nodded.

"We shall, My Lord Haldir."

As they approached Elrond's study, Aeslin suddenly started to become nervous and beside her a genuinely serious expression overcame her Marchwarden. She was starting to question the wisdom in asking Elrond for his blessing to marry. What if he insisted she needed to include her Father in the decision? The more she thought on it, the more she came to realize that if that were to happen, her choice in life-partner would likely be considered unacceptable. Yes, Haldir was the Marchwarden of The Golden Wood, and a trusted member of the Court of the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien, but he was not exactly of a rank that would be acceptable to her formal and very traditional-minded Father. And he was a Silvan Elf; her Sindaran Father had, to her mind, rather antiquated notions of superiority when it came to Silvan elves. Her grip tightened on Haldir's sleeve, causing him to look down in concern. She met his look with a small smile, hoping he would buy her feigned confidence. She doubted he believed it, but thankfully he didn't press her.

Aeslin had yet to really tell Haldir exactly who her Father was. It wasn't something that was advertised at Caras Galadhon, and she suspected Haldir had never really been explicitly told of her lineage. She knew it was wrong, and she knew very well that someday she would have to tell him, if he didn't find out in the next few days, and that he would not be pleased that she withheld something so important. But she did not want to tell him yet; she didn't even know how. Besides, her Father had been effectively out of her life now for the better part of four centuries. She had no desire to let him control her. She intended to marry whom she willed, and she had chosen Haldir.

* * *

Elrond leaned back in his chair, understanding painting his features. He was silent for a long moment, his face serious as he thought. Aeslin, though keeping calm on the outside, was beginning to panic inside. Similarly, Haldir gave no clue to his thoughts, remaining severe and motionless at her side. Aeslin knew, though, that he was growing concerned, she could feel it.

At first, she had attributed her growing ability to know what he was thinking and feeling to getting to know him better. Now, though, with his face betraying nothing of his inner state of mind, she was beginning to realize it was something deeper than that. She was beginning to understand the long, wordless looks Galadriel and Celeborn shared, and the similar moments with Lostariel and Orophin. Her bond with Haldir was deepening. It was in that moment that she realized she would do whatever was necessary to be with him.

"You are certain, of this, Aeslin? You truly wish to bind yourself to Haldir for the rest of your lives." His voice was grave; something that Aeslin feared did not bode well.

"I do. I love him, Master Elrond. I have no intention of being parted from him." There was no doubting the sincerity of her words. Elrond sighed.

"This will not be as easy as you might imagine, Aeslin." She felt Haldir stiffen beside her as her mentor spoke. "Your Father—"

"My Father has nothing to do with this."

"He has everything to do with this, Aeslin." Elrond stood, frustration punctuating his every word. "I can not imagine your Father will be pleased. He very likely expects you to marry much higher than a Marchwarden. As Thranduil's daughter—"

"—and your ward." Aeslin met Elrond's stern gray gaze head on, not willing to budge even an inch. She could feel the effect her Mentor's words had on Haldir, but she could not stop now. "My Father gave me up to your care. I am your ward now, and that gives you say in whether to accept or reject my choice of whom to marry, not him." Elrond sighed heavily, taking his seat again. "I have done my research, Master Elrond. We would not have come to you otherwise." He tented his fingers in front of him, thinking deeply again. Her boldness evaporating with each moment he sat silent, she had finally had enough.

"With or without your blessing, Elrond, I intend to marry whom I will. I will not let my Father dictate my life." With that, she stood abruptly and all but fled from the room, afraid of what she might do next. Elrond sat, watching her go with a considering look. Haldir on the other hand, had turned to watch her go, deeply concerned by what had just transpired, before turning back to the Master of Rivendell. He fixed the older elf with a severe gaze, one that was eventually returned without hesitation.

"You truly love her, Haldir." As was his way, Elrond's words were more statement than query.

"Yes," came Haldir's immediate reply. He may have been thrown off-guard by the surprise of Aeslin's exact lineage, but that didn't diminish his feelings for her. He knew she was Sindarin, and that there were very few of them, all high nobles, in the Woodland Realm. It still stung a little to know just what she had kept from him in not revealing herself to be Mirkwood's Princess. But he also remembered very well the evening by the fountain, and the heartbreak that still lingered in Aeslin.

"You did not know she was the daughter of King Thranduil, did you." Haldir knew he should've expected that, like Lady Galadriel, Elrond was incredibly adept at picking up what others were thinking.

"No, I did not. Not entirely. I knew she was of a noble lineage and Sindarin, but little else. I never felt the need to ask her." He stepped away toward the terrace, looking out at the garden beyond.

"It does not bother you that she kept her heritage from you?" Haldir had to think for a moment. Truthfully, it did on some level, but then, there were things in his past that Haldir had yet to share as well. He understood her reluctance.

"Yes, but also no," he finally answered. "The hurt she feels at her Father's actions runs deep, My Lord Elrond. I do not begrudge her wishing to be free of him. I know how easy it is to want to be free of the past." Elrond nodded, knowing exactly what Haldir meant, his eyes once again on the door Aeslin had disappeared through.

"Her Father is deeply faithful to tradition and many of our oldest ways. He is not so giving in his attachments or his displays of love as others of our race. His pairing with Lasbereth may not have been a true love match, but they were married for a very long time and he did care for her deeply. Her loss changed him more than even he realizes. He has lost touch with many of his more tender emotions. That being said, he loves his only daughter deeply." He turned his gaze back to Haldir. "You know what grows in Mirkwood, the darkness that spreads within it, the evil that now runs rampant through Thranduil's realm." Haldir did indeed, knowing the concern it caused his Lord and Lady. Elrond nodded, knowing that the Marchwarden was very much aware of the growing shadows in the east.

"He fears for her safety. He needed to get her away from it. He is tied to that forest; the darkness is having an effect even on him, changing him, and I think he knows it. Thranduil had no intention of risking her life by allowing her to stay in Mirkwood. Loving her as you do, could you say you would not do the same?" Elrond had a point. Haldir knew Mirkwood was her home and, through their growing bond, he could feel the longing to return in her heart. But the evil in Mirkwood made him nervous; he was beginning to understand why Thranduil made the choice he had. He sighed, letting his mask of indifference slip. Elrond was right; this was becoming more complicated than he had anticipated. The Lord of Imladris rose, coming to stand at his side.

"I may regret this, but there is no denying the bond between you, Haldir. I recognize in you the love that I shared with my wife. You have my blessing to marry the daughter of my heart." Haldir looked over to the older elf, not bothering to hide the astonishment that grew in him. "But be forewarned. There is a good chance that Thranduil will be far from pleased when he finds out, but I, for one, have no intention of standing in your way." He smiled, clapping Haldir on the shoulder.

"Take care of her, Haldir. Do not let what happened to Celebrian happen to her. Never let her go, not unless you plan to follow." Grief clouded Elrond's features, reminding the Marchwarden all too well the pain the past held. Gripping the older elf's shoulder in return, Haldir nodded before leaving the study himself.

* * *

It was on one of the Lower Terraces, below the main houses of Rivendell, that Aeslin finally stopped. Unable to go any further, she hugged one of the columns, looking out over the vista that had become so familiar after so many years. Fighting to hold back frustrated tears, she tried to calm herself, but the fear in her heart was too strong. She feared that Elrond would be forced to consult her father, and she knew in her heart that her father would not approve. Still, her resolve to marry Haldir remained firm.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of determined little feet. Hastily wiping her eyes, she turned, only to be met with the concerned gaze of a small child. Confused, she watched him for a moment, and he watched her back. Finally he took a few steps forward, until he stood in front of her, gazing up at her.

"Who are you?" His earnest blue eyes met hers with an unabashed curiosity. She smiled, taken in by his honest child's face.

"I am Aeslin, I used to live here." He nodded solemnly, satisfied for the time being. "Who are you?"

"I'm Estel." He said matter-of-factly. It was then that she noticed he was not an elf-child. Her curiosity piqued, she lowered herself to his level, kneeling beside him.

"And do you live here, Estel?" He nodded enthusiastically.

"Yup."

"How old are you?" He thought very hard for a moment, his endearing little face all scrunched up, before holding up three fingers. "Three? Indeed. Are you here with your mother, or your father?" He held up his finger to his lips, shushing very loudly.

"I'm hiding from Mama."

"Oh, I see. Are you supposed to be hiding?" A guilty look came over his face.

"No." Aeslin tried to hide her smile.

"Tsk, tsk, little Estel. You shouldn't be hiding from your mama. She's probably wondering where you are. Shall I take you back to her?" He nodded, the solemn expression returning to his face. "Where is she?" A frightened look came over his face then, and without a word he climbed onto her lap, nestling against her, his little hand wrapping around a lock of her pale hair.

"I don't know," came his muffled reply. Aeslin withheld a soft laugh, wrapping the little boy in an embrace.

"We shall have to find her then." Almost as if on cue, one voice and then another floated over the breeze, coming from the path leading to the terrace. After a moment, Elladan appeared around the bend, relief alighting on his face when he saw the boy.

"Gilraen," he called over his shoulder, before coming forward to kneel next to Aeslin. Hesitantly, Estel lifted his face from Aeslin's arms, looking guiltily at dark-haired elf.

"I'm sorry," came his small muffled voice. Elladan laughed.

"You gave your mother quite a scare, little one." He looked up as a woman came around the bend, her face pale with worry.

"Estel. There you are." Twisting around in Aeslin's arms, the little boy was off like an arrow when he caught sight of his mother. Laughing, Aeslin let him go, taking Elladan's proffered hand as he helped her to her feet. After a moment of gently scolding her young son and holding him close, Gilraen also stood, Estel held safe in her arms. Elladan gestured to the woman, who, as Aeslin saw immediately, was not an elf either.

"Aeslin, this is Gilraen. She is a guest of Father's here in Rivendell, and obviously you have met her son, Estel." Aeslin bowed her head gently, acknowledging the introduction. He then gestured to Aeslin, but before he could say anything, she stepped forward herself.

"I am Aeslin of Lorien, I was a student of Master Elrond's, some years ago." She saw Elladan frown a little as she spoke out of the corner of her eye. Gilraen smiled in greeting, returning Aeslin's nod, unaware of anything out of sorts before politely excusing herself and returning to the main house. As soon as she was out of earshot, Elladan turned to her, the frown more prominent. Aeslin returned his gaze without flinching.

"Of Lorien?"

"Yes, of Lorien, Elladan, for I no longer intend to return to Mirkwood," she said firmly. His frown deepened.

"Does My father know about this? Does yours?"

"Master Elrond does, but my Father does not." She left the terrace and began walking back up the path. Not quite finished, Elladan followed, falling into step beside her.

"This doesn't have anything to do with a certain Lorien Marchwarden, does it?" A small, pleased smile came to Aeslin's face, but she shook her head.

"As much as I came to love Rivendell, I have come to feel more at home in Lorien over the course of sixty years than I ever did over the centuries I lived here."

"But the Marchwarden doesn't hurt." There was a mischievous undercurrent in his serious tone. Aeslin couldn't help but give an exasperated laugh.

"No, it doesn't hurt," she capitulated. After a while, Elladan finally smiled.

"I am happy for you, Aeslin. Truly I am, but I cannot help but wonder at the wisdom of your decision." She frowned as he spoke, stopping in the middle of the path. Elladan paused also, focusing on Aeslin.

"What could you possibly mean by that?" she asked, genuinely confused at his meaning. His eyes bored into hers.

"You are certain of your feelings?

"Yes."

"And you are certain he returns those feelings."

"Of course." She didn't hesitate to answer, easing some of the worry Elladan felt. "I feel it in my heart. I know he returns my love. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me, and I can feel it in him when we are apart." She trailed off, her eyes out of focus for a moment. Elladan watched her, struck by the admission she had just given him.

"Your bond is strong then, dear Aeslin, and I think you will be very happy," he finally admitted, unable to ignore the evidence standing before him. Her face lighting up, she gave him a quick hug of thanks. Then, excusing herself, she left him there to think.

* * *

She had barely made it back to the main building when she was reunited with Haldir. He had been waiting for her at the head of the path, leaning against the arch separating the indoors from the out. He waited until she reached him before moving, his face serious. She knew what was coming. Taking her hands, he led her to a nearby bench, lowering himself onto it. Sitting beside him, she watched, silent, and waited for him to speak.

"Why did you not tell me?" She took a deep breath, not taking her eyes from their entwined fingers.

"I do not rightly know. I suppose part of me was afraid what admitting my parentage would mean for us," she answered quietly after a moment. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stay calm. She felt his hand brush her cheek.

"It would not mean anything. It would not diminish my love for you, Aeslin." She leaned into his touch.

"I am just so sick of the control he has over me, even from such a distance and after so much time. First he sent me away, and then he prevented me from going home. I don't know what I would do if he forbade me from being with you." He smiled faintly before responding.

"Your father can forbid all he wants, but that will not stop me from taking you as my wife. I can no longer stand to be parted from you." She shifted forward, letting him wrap his arms around her as she leaned against him. "Besides, Lord Elrond has given us his blessing." She looked up at him, not quite believing what he said.

"Truly?" He nodded, leaning down to lay a gentle kiss on her smiling lips.

"He told me never to let you go," he said quietly, a sorrowful cast to his features. Aeslin noticed this, feeling his sadness in her own heart.

"What is it?" she asked softly. He shook his head, but Aeslin persisted.

"What is troubling you?" Eventually he sighed, taking a moment before speaking.

"It is just something that was brought up when Elrond and I spoke, about trying to forget the pain of the past." She waited patiently for him to continue, knowing he would tell her when he was ready. After a moment he inhaled deeply.

"I thought I was in love once, a very long time ago. She was older than I, and I was very young still, but I was dazzled by her beauty and the kindness she showed me. I know now that it was not meant to be, that it was not a true bond of love but youthful infatuation only, but then I was so certain. It cut deeply when she turned me down, especially when I saw the compassion and understanding in her eyes. She thought nothing of my foolishness but empathy. I have no words for the humiliation that burned in me." He took another deep breath, lost in memory. "I came to realize when she chose another just how foolish I had been, that my youth and my folly had jumped at the opportunity to find something I wanted dearly. It was then that I learned to bury my feelings, to not allow anyone too close to my heart. I tried to forget." Aeslin felt his pain and his humiliation as deeply as if it were her own. Releasing a pent up breath, she leaned against him again, feeling his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

"Who was she?" Little more than a whisper, it nevertheless brought Haldir back to the present.

"The daughter of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel; Celebrian." Aeslin frowned; she knew that name. She looked up at him again.

"Elrond's wife?" He nodded, staunchly refusing to meet her gaze.

"Yes. I resented him for a long time, for he had her love. Visiting Imladris still brings back the memory of that pain, for this place still bears her shadow and the memory of her presence. Over time I came to realize that what they shared was so very different from what I thought I felt, especially upon seeing his grief at being parted after she sailed to the Undying Lands; I realized how stupid I had been. I realize it now more than ever." He all but spat out the last words, startling the elf-maid in his arms. Astonished, Aeslin reached up, turning his face to hers.

"Do not say that."

"But it is true. I understand it more everyday just what was at risk. Had I not grown careless with the defenses I had built within myself since her rejection, you never would have found your way into my heart, Aeslin. I would've missed this; I would've lost you without ever knowing you." Aeslin fought back the tears his pain drew from her. She pulled him closer, until their foreheads touched.

"That is a what-if. Do not dwell on it, Haldir, Please. Regardless of the past, we found each other, and I know I have no intention of ever letting you go." For the first time in a very long time, Haldir let his emotions get the better of him, burying his face into her shoulder as he began to tremble, tears threatening to fall. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him even as he clung to her. Even as she urged him not to dwell on the past, she came to realize just how true his words were. Lostariel had called him the Warden with the Heart of Stone, and Aeslin hadn't truly believed it until now. In sharing his deepest hurt, he had finally truly opened his heart to her, just as she had let him into her heart by the fountain in Lorien, and she saw the scars left there.

After a while he pulled away, sighing deeply as he hastily rubbed his face. Smiling a little, Aeslin reached over to brush away a strand of his golden hair that had fallen out of place. He turned his eyes to hers, a lingering sadness and fear in their blue depths.

"I could not bear to lose you," he murmured. She leaned forward, kissing him fiercely.

"You don't have to."


	12. Chapter 11

**Start of a New Chapter**

By the time night came and Aeslin retired to her room, she was so emotionally exhausted she could barely think straight. Yet as she lay in her bed, waiting for sleep to take her, she found she was too elated to sleep. Her betrothal to Haldir was official now that they had gained Elrond's blessing, something that gave her no end of joy. In addition, her bond with her future husband was stronger for the unanticipated emotional baggage they had explored. Even as she lay alone, looking out at the moonlit landscape beyond her quarters, she could feel Haldir's presence as strongly as if he was beside her.

Supper had been pleasant enough, with Elrond congratulating them while simultaneously announcing their troth for everyone to hear. Elrohir had promptly swept Aeslin up in an exuberant hug, proclaiming his joy at her good fortune. Haldir and Aeslin, though delighted themselves, were slightly more sedate than those around them. Haldir, especially, had fallen back on his old habits, and was as serious and staid as he had always been. Aeslin did not mind, though. She understood now why he was the way he was, and she loved him all the more for it, beginning to enjoy being the only one privy to what went on beneath the Marchwarden's unreadable expressions. He was just as pleased as she was.

Congratulations and merrymaking continued around them long after their supper had been completed, Orophin and Elrohir having the most fun, teasing their siblings with glee, earning a great many laughs all around. However, private as he was, eventually all the attention began to wear on Haldir, something that Aeslin picked up on immediately. Eventually, Elrohir and Elladan moved on to other topics, a rousing song bursting from them at one point, Haldir and Aeslin slipped away, pausing only to wish Elrond a good night.

Once outside, Haldir released an exasperated breath, earning a laugh from Aeslin.

"They are happy for us, you know." He smiled down at her, pleased by the joy in her eyes. He put his arm around her as the merry sounds of the Hall behind them began to dim.

"I know, I only wish they were not so—"

"Loud? Insufferable?" she supplied. He laughed.

"Indeed. They love you a great deal, the brothers of your heart." She nodded, her face falling after a moment. He frowned at the sudden change. Feeling his concern, she explained.

"I miss my true brother, but I dare not contact him until after we are married."

"For fear of your father."

"Yes," she whispered. "Once I am your wife, and you my husband, my father can complain all he wants, but he will be able to do nothing that would impact our marriage. I cannot wait for that day." Haldir stopped, causing Aeslin to look up at him in confusion. After a moment he smiled and leaned forward to kiss her, savouring the warm softness of her lips against his and the feel of her in his arms.

"Say it again." She looked at him questioningly, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Say what?"

"About wanting me to be your husband." She smiled, leaning forward to kiss him again.

"More than anything." They began walking again, and before long had reached Aeslin's quarters. With one final good night they parted. She could see in his eyes that Haldir was tired, worn by the memories he had been forced to confront earlier that day. So much had happened, Aeslin could barely believe only a single day had passed. But she didn't regret a moment of it. She and Haldir had accomplished what they set out to do.

Once they returned to Lorien they would wed. That it was approaching so quickly now was baffling to the young healer. She could hardly contain her elation at the prospect. Not even the shadow of her father's expected disapproval could dampen her spirits. It was not long after that she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

They stayed in Rivendell for another month and a half before departing for Lorien. Parting was bittersweet for Aeslin, since she was set to wed Haldir upon her return, but she was saying goodbye to Elrond. She wished he could accompany them, to come to her wedding, but he had duties to attend to in Imladris. Elladan and Elrohir, on the other hand, had decided as soon as they heard of her plans that they would attend.

"After all," as Elrohir reasoned, "you need to have some of your family there." She smiled, knowing exactly what he referred to. The twins had even offered to ride to Mirkwood on her behalf, something she had reluctantly refused despite the wishes of her heart. She was deeply touched though, and grateful beyond words that they were to come to Lorien with her.

After one final farewell on the morning of her departure, she turned away from Rivendell, ready to mount her horse, only to have a small hand tug on her skirt. Behind her, Elrond paused in his farewell to Haldir to watch as Estel reached up for a farewell of his own, latching onto a lock of her soft, shining hair as had become his habit.

During her stay, the little boy had decided Aeslin was to be his friend, and had actively sought her out, much to his mother's chagrin. Aeslin hadn't minded in the least, becoming very fond of the boy herself. Elrond laughed when Aeslin struggled to detach the boy from around her neck, where he had latched on for one last hug.

"Will you visit me?" the expectant look on his face tugged at Aeslin's heart.

"Perhaps, little one. There is no telling what the future holds," Aeslin answered gently. At that moment his mother appeared to reclaim her child. Gathering him up in her arms, Gilraen spared Aeslin a grateful smile.

"Your presence has been a gift, My Lady. I wish you joy."

"And I to you. Your son is a blessing, Gilraen. His regard has been a gift to me." Smiling herself, she reached out and gently tugged one of Estel's dark curls in farewell, unable to feel sorrowful thanks to his earnest excitement at the prospect of another future visit.

Elrond and Haldir watched the exchange from where they stood on the other end of the courtyard. Elrond nearly laughed when he spied an expression of tenderness flicker across the Marchwarden's usually grim features. Eventually though, he had to laugh in earnest at the child's antics and his reluctance to return to his mother's arms. As Estel and Gilraen retreated, Elrond turned his attention back to Haldir, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Remember what I told you." His face turned serious, "Keep her safe, for life would be far less bright without her. Farewell, Haldir." With a solemn nod, he reciprocated Elrond's goodbye. In an instant he was at Aeslin's side, assisting her up into the saddle before mounting his own horse. With one final nod in Elrond's direction, he led the troupe of elves out of the gate on the return trip to Lorien.

They had not been on the road overly long before Haldir turned to Aeslin and noticed a peculiar smile on her face. Angling his horse so that they were side by side, he cleared his throat, causing her to start.

"What were you thinking of, to earn a look like that." Aeslin grinned, almost sheepishly.

"I was remembering Estel's goodbye. He is such a sweet child. He will grow to be a good man." Her look became somewhat distant after a moment, but before Haldir could reply, Elrohir came up on Aeslin's other side, a familiar expression of teasing on his face.

"A little early to be thinking of things like that isn't it, my sweet elfling?" It took a moment for her to realize his implication, but when she did, Aeslin's eyes went wide as her cheeks began to flush, and she shot her adoptive brother a cutting look. Laughing to himself, the dark-haired elf urged his mount forward, leaving a rather embarrassed Aeslin behind. Cautiously, she looked over at Haldir, unsure what his reaction would be. After a moment he chuckled, reaching over and taking her hand to lay a kiss against her fingers, the tender look Elrond had caught earlier returning to his face.

"Ignore him, my sweet Aeslin, we needn't think on that just yet. He is acting as an older brother is supposed to with his sister; like an idiot."

"I heard that!" Ahead of them, Elrohir had twisted in his saddle, obviously still laughing. Aeslin twitched, fighting the urge to race ahead and topple him from his horse in retribution. After a moment though, she relaxed, laughing softly to herself. Yes, there was plenty of time ahead.

* * *

Two months after their return, Haldir and Aeslin were married. Under the golden bowers of Lorien, they bound their lives together. The day was dampened only in that there were precious faces that were absent; Elrond and Legolas being foremost in Aeslin's mind. Yet nothing could truly diminish her happiness. Arwen and her brothers from Rivendell were there, as were Orophin and Lostariel, and Rumil and his young family. Galadriel and Celeborn were also present, the Lady being the first to offer congratulations and blessings on the newlyweds.

With weddings being merry as they are, the celebrations inevitably went on long into the night. All of Caras Galadhon was lit and carefree songs filled the night air. Aeslin was light-hearted and positively glowing with joy, with elanor blossoms in her hair. As was to be expected, Haldir could barely keep his eyes of his bride, and it earned him no shortage of teasing from his brothers and hers. And for once he wore his feelings for all to see, something that delighted Aeslin to no end.

Eventually though, the festivities wound down, and the newlyweds were free to retire to their new flet. As they drew closer, Haldir surprised Aeslin by suddenly sweeping her off her feet, carrying her the rest of the way while she laughed in delight. He finally set her down once they reached the privacy of their own quarters, but he did not let her go, not for a long while.

* * *

Aeslin took to married life rather quickly, soon wondering how she had managed before her life with Haldir. He had become such an important part of her existence that she could no longer imagine living without him. Even when they were parted they were always connected, for their bond continued to strengthen as time passed around them, and in what felt like a heartbeat they had been married for nearly a decade.

The only real hitch, so far as she was concerned, came when he was called back to his duties on the borders of Lorien. At first she was plagued by worry and loneliness, but she soon came to realize that she could feel when he was safe, when he was worried and so on. Their link even proved strong enough on occasion that thoughts could pass between them.

One such occasion came as she spent one particularly warm afternoon with Lostariel, Melima and Melima's son, Veryan. At that point, Aeslin had only been married a little over two years. They all sat inside the flet Melima shared with Rumil, while their son attended to his studies off to the side, his growing adolescent form draped over the couch there. The three older elves sat together, keeping each other company while their husbands were away on the borders. Aeslin sat slightly apart, reading, while Lostariel and Melima talked quietly.

"He certainly is growing fast," Lostariel said with a laugh.

"Too fast," came the response, a hint of playful exasperation in Melima's voice, "I did enjoy it so when he was small, when he was content to spend his days with me. Now all he speaks of are his desires to join the border-guard like his father." Lostariel laughed again.

"Of course he does, he is a growing boy. I remember my mother saying the same thing of my brother, lamenting when he grew more interested in our father's doings than hers. She missed having her baby with her always," said Lostarial. Melima sighed, a smile on her face nonetheless.

"It is true, I grant you that. You needn't laugh so, Lostariel. Sooner or later you will understand what I'm going through. Do you and Orophin still plan on having a child?" Now it was Lostariel whose voice grew wistful.

"Yes, we do. But as you can tell, it has not happened yet."

"It will soon enough, don't you worry about that." She turned to Aeslin, who was only half paying attention. "What of you, little sister?" Aeslin started, looking from Melima's playful grin to Lostariel's.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Have you and Haldir discussed the prospect of children yet." Aeslin felt a slight flush creep to her cheeks.

"No, not yet." Lostariel looked at the younger elf in consideration for a moment, a hint of a teasing smile on her face.

"Do you want children?" the older elf asked, utterly failing at posing the question casually. Aeslin thought for a moment. They hadn't really discussed it, and truthfully, she hadn't truly thought of it before. Naturally, she did want children someday, and the idea that they would be Haldir's filled her with joy. She smiled at her companions, answering with just that—she did someday—allowing them to move on with their conversation. But Aeslin continued to think on it though, wondering.

It was then that she felt as though she heard Haldir laughing, and before she could react, she heard his voice inside her head. _There is still plenty of time for that, My Aeslin; all in good time_. A small smile coming to her face, she laughed to herself before resuming her reading.

* * *

It was after they reached their second decade of marriage that Aeslin and Haldir finally heard news of her father's reaction to their marriage.

Aeslin and Arwen's friendship was undiminished by the new stage in Aeslin's life, but the younger elf began to notice a change in her friend. After a long time trying to discern the cause, she eventually began to attribute it to threads of jealousy. While not begrudging her friend's happiness, Arwen Undomiel longed for a love to call her own, something that Aeslin noticed was particularly prominent when Haldir was present.

Aeslin knew her love for Haldir had changed her; she was particularly sensitive to his temperament for one, and when they were close, they tended to gravitate toward each other. She knew Arwen saw this. It was something that was common among strongly bonded couples. Having experienced it herself, Aeslin saw it all around her, especially when she was near Galadriel and Celeborn. Their bond was very strong, which wasn't surprising since not only were they a genuine love-match, but they had been together for such a very long time.

So when she found out that the time was approaching for Arwen to make the trip home to Rivendell, Aeslin was happy for her. She intended to stay in Lorien, so Arwen would be making the trip without her, something that obviously saddened the older elf.

"My father would love to see you," she said to Aeslin the day Elrohir and Elladan arrived on the borders of Lorien. But Aeslin refused.

"Go, see your home again. Spend time with your father. Do not worry for me, I am perfectly content here."

"I don't doubt that," Arwen rejoined with a cheeky smile. Making a sound of exasperation, Aeslin nevertheless drew her friend into a hug.

"Give your father my love, for I do miss him. Certainly more than I've ever missed my father." She spoke with a light-hearted tone, but Arwen didn't miss what lay beneath it. Before she could say anything else though, Aeslin turned, feeling that Haldir, along with the brothers of her heart were close.

A moment later they entered the flet of Galadriel and Celeborn, where Arwen and Aeslin had been awaiting their arrival. Elrohir and Elladan were quick to greet their sisters, especially Aeslin since she wasn't going to be going with them. A short while later, Galadriel and Celeborn made their own appearance to greet their grandsons. Aeslin stood to the side while they talked, moving to stand beside her husband. However, they were soon drawn back to the group when Elladan looked to his adopted sister.

"Father has received a missive, Aeslin, from your Father." The young healer tensed, afraid of what Elladan was about to say. Haldir laid a protective hand on her shoulder, reassuring them both, for he had begun to grow uneasy as well. Exchanging a glance with Elrohir, the dark-haired elf continued, reciting a portion of the message.

"Your Father was distressed not to hear of your wedding until after the fact, having been unable to discuss it with you beforehand," Aeslin held her tongue, tempted to voice her cynical opinion on the type of discussion he had likely wanted, "Also, now that the darkness in Dol Guldur has been ejected these few years hence, he wishes for you to return to Mirkwood, so that he may meet your husband, and confer his blessing."

"Only if he should deem him worthy, I suspect." Elladan was surprised at how dark Aeslin's gaze had become and how sharp her tone.

"You don't know that, Aeslin." Elrohir interjected.

"Don't I? It is only when he are displeased with me that he finally asks me to return to the home of my childhood."

"Your Father has never been displeased with you, Aeslin. He is proud of you, of what you have become." Galadriel leveled her mild gaze at Aeslin, though the healer heard a hint of displeasure in the Lady's quiet tone. Aeslin closed her eyes for a moment, fighting not only shame at forgetting that the Lord and Lady of Lorien were separated from their own daughter, but also the bitter well of emotion that was growing within her.

"How can he know what I have become? He has neither spoken to me nor seen me for nearly half my life, now. He's never even written to me, only passing along platitudes through my brother's letters." Her tone had a note of despair to it, one that Haldir felt as well as heard.

"It is not only your father who misses you, Aeslin. Think of your brother." There was a plaintive undertone to Elrohir's plea, one that Aeslin could not ignore. "Were Arwen to marry without telling us…"

"I understand, Elrohir, truly. You have no idea how much it hurt me not to have him here, by my side. But there was no guarantee that our father would not resist our marriage. I could not risk it, I could not have borne it…" She trailed off. Eventually though, she spoke again. Looking to Haldir for a long moment, a glance of understanding passed between them. She turned back to Elladan.

"Very well. We shall make the journey to Mirkwood. But should my Father give any criticism of my choice in husband, we shall be gone from his domain shortly thereafter." Knowing that was the best answer they were likely going to get, the Rivendell brothers let the matter rest.

* * *

It was later that night, after Elrond's children had departed and they were alone in their own quarters that Haldir brought the subject up again.

"You truly wish to travel to Mirkwood?" Aeslin sat at her dressing table, brushing out her long, pale hair. After a moment, she sighed sadly.

"Yes" She turned to face him, feeling his concern, "Lorien is my home now, but part of me still longs to see Mirkwood, to wander the halls of my Father's court and to see my brother again. At the very least, I wish to go to Mirkwood for him." Still, he saw fear in her eyes. Haldir walked to her side, kneeling beside her. Taking the brush from her hand, he set it aside before taking her hands in his.

"I do not fear you Father's judgment, Aeslin." She tried to smile, but the expression more closely resembled a grimace as she reached out to touch his face.

"But I do. I fear what he will say, what he will do." She took a deep breath, trying to chase away the fear growing in her heart. Haldir didn't need to feel her emotions to know the struggle she was having; he could see it in her face. He gathered her into his arms.

"There is nothing he can say or do that would change this," he said forcefully, placing kisses along her features before capturing her mouth. She kissed him back just as forcefully. After a moment, they ended the kiss. Aeslin smiled faintly, tracing her fingers along his jaw and up to the pointed edge of his ear.

"You are right, my love. He cannot take our love from us."


	13. Chapter 12

**Mirkwood**

Even having made up their minds to accept the offer of Aeslin's father and journey to Mirkwood, it was still many years before Aeslin had summoned enough courage to actually make the journey.

In that time, Arwen returned from Rivendell, a new light shining in her eyes. Aeslin, though curious, didn't pry initially, though she began to wonder. Eventually though, her curiosity began to tell, and she confronted Arwen about her time in Rivendell.

"My father has been fostering one of the Dúnedain, in Imladris," Arwen finally said. This was little news to Aeslin; she had learned near the end of the visit prior to her marriage that the young boy Estel was one of the Dúnedain. She was curious about the child, wondering what kind of man he was becoming.

"Estel? You met him?" Arwen shot Aeslin an odd look.

"Not exactly. I've never truly talked with him."

"Then what happened?" Aeslin asked, even more curious than before. A dreamy look overcame Arwen's features, something that Aeslin had never seen before. It seemed decidedly out of character. "Obviously something, else you wouldn't be looking like that." She playfully prodded her friend, snapping Arwen out of whatever memory she was reliving.

"I'm not entirely sure," all humour was gone from Arwen's voice, replaced instead with a wonder that Aeslin recognized immediately, "One minute, I am walking through the gardens, the next I meet his eyes… Aragorn…" Aeslin frowned.

"Aragorn?" Arwen looked at her quizzically for a moment.

"Yes, Estel is not his true name. It was given to him by my father to protect him as he grew. His true name is Aragorn."

"Why should your father hide his identity from him…" she trailed off as the pieces of information came together and an idea formed in her mind, "unless…" Arwen nodded, guessing what Aeslin was thinking.

"Do you think he's really Isildur's heir?" Aeslin's question was hushed with astonishment. Arwen shrugged.

"I do not know. My father would not speak to me about him. He was oddly secretive about Aragorn." She grew thoughtful again, the furtive smile returning. Aeslin still couldn't get past the memory of the little boy this Aragorn had once been. If she was right, Arwen was falling in love with the man he had become, but the Healer only remembered him as a small child.

"Arwen, he is so young, and he is mortal." Once again, Arwen's distant expression disappeared. She looked at Aeslin in astonishment of her own, then after a moment, unease.

"I had not thought of that, truth be told," the older elf finally admitted, subdued a little, but still thoughtful. After a moment though, she looked only sad. Aeslin, sympathetic, silently reached over, taking her friend's hand. Arwen sighed, her features clearing. "I do wish to see him again."

"Perhaps you will."

* * *

No matter how much the prospect weighed on her heart, eventually Aeslin had to concede that, as she had agreed she and Haldir would go to Mirkwood, they probably should. By the time she and Haldir set out from Lorien, several more years had passed.

So far as journeys went, theirs was entirely uneventful, something that Aeslin was thankful for. The only downside was that they then reached Mirkwood far faster than she had anticipated. As Aeslin and Haldir stood before the edge of the forest, a feeling akin to terror began to well up inside Aeslin. Haldir, of course, noticed this instantly.

"Here I stand, finally at the threshold of the very forest to which I have longed to return. Yet, now I am afraid of the sight I see before me. I am no longer sure I trust my memory." Her voice trembled ever so slightly, but she was surprisingly calm. Haldir reached out a hand to take hers.

"Come, I am sure it is not so dark as it seems." She smiled at the lightness in his voice.

"That, my love, is one thing I do remember clearly. This darkness is bright compared to the night we shall encounter within." After another moment, she urged her horse forward, entering into the shadow cast by the trees. Haldir followed close behind.

In many ways, Mirkwood was much as she remembered it. It was dark and close among the trees, and unseen animals called and scurried through amid foliage so thick and gnarled it blotted out the sun. There was a great deal of life though, but not all of it was benevolent. The things she had been told about Mirkwood since she left were true. A great darkness had been spreading, and Aeslin felt it around her like a cloying mist, grasping and clutching at her. She realized that the forest she ached for truly was a dark place, full of dangers and threats that she simply hadn't had the skill to recognize. Were it not for Haldir's comforting presence at her side, she would have been tempted to turn and flee.

It was not long though before they were greeted by the border-guards of Mirkwood. Out of the inky black shadows came several elves, each with their own grim expression and drawn bows pointed at the intruders. After a moment, one spoke, his voice authoritative and mistrustful.

"What business have you here in our lands, Elves of Lorien." Aeslin nearly didn't find her voice, but when she did, she nearly shocked herself at the authoritative tone that came from her own lips, answering his demand.

"And of Mirkwood, Master Guardian. I am Aeslin, and I have come to pay visit to my father, Thranduil, your lord and master." As one, the elves lowered their arrows. The one who spoke stepped forward to examine the newcomers. Aeslin looked down from her mount, doing her best to imitate the imperious demeanor she remembered in her Father. She heard Haldir's mount shift, but other than that, all was silent. After a moment, the Captain capitulated.

"My Lady, your presence is an unexpected pleasure. Indeed, we began to fear you would fail to arrive at this late hour." Aeslin nodded once in recognition.

"That being so, I am anxious to meet with my father, if you please."

"Of course." With a few hushed words to the guard at his side, the Captain led the returning Princess of Mirkwood and her husband farther into the forest. Maintaining the demeanor of royal authority felt awkward and unnatural to Aeslin, but she did her best, with surprisingly effective results. Beside her Haldir couldn't help but be impressed. Before his eyes, his lovely healer had seemed to transform.

 _If I doubted before that I was pledged to the Princess of Mirkwood_ , he said through their bond, _I certainly would not be able to now_. She turned slightly, shooting him a faint glare of annoyance.

 _Stop that, you're distracting me_. At the exasperated tone she took, he was hard pressed to keep his own somber demeanor intact, allowing his amusement to flow back through their link. Despite the haughty set of her features, her eyes began to sparkle in the darkness.

Faint lights began to appear in the distance, eventually growing brighter and more frequent as they grew closer until the dark wood was fully alight with torches, candles and great fires. Eventually they reached the heart of the Woodland Court. Dismounting, they took their leave of the border-guard who had brought them thus far. Then, with Haldir's silent support, Aeslin gathered her courage and strode confidently through the gates that lead into the Fortress holding the Mirkwood Court.

The Great Hall of Mirkwood was wondrous to behold, all winding passageways, graceful stairways and high narrow walkways. Aeslin was no less appreciative of its beauty now than she had been as a child, captivated as her pale eyes relearned every curve and carving about her. Great trees and elegantly carved stone columns enclosed and wove through the Hall as walls and arches might elsewhere, warm light pouring from sconces and chandeliers wrought out of the wood itself. And at the end of the hall, near the great stairs that lead up to her father's throne—

"Aeslin!" Legolas leaped from the landing on which he'd been pacing the instant he saw her enter the hall and was at her side in an instant. Completely throwing aside all restraint he swept her into an exuberant hug, completely lifting her off the ground in his enthusiasm.

"How I have missed you, little sister." Her own solemn façade gone, she could barely speak for excitement.

"And I you. Legolas, you have no idea how much."

"I can hardly believe my eyes, but you are here, returned home at last." For a long moment they were unable to pay much attention to anything else going on around them, but the illusion was soon broken. Looking to Haldir after a moment, Legolas slipped back into the role of Mirkwood's Prince.

"Welcome, Haldir of Lorien, husband of mine sister." Returning the traditional gesture of greeting, the Marchwarden dipped his head in respect.

"My thanks, Legolas, son of Thranduil." Legolas turned back to Aeslin, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Come, Father is eager to see you." Aeslin's face fell ever so slightly before she hid it behind the more solemn expression favoured in the Court of Mirkwood. Legolas didn't fail to notice. "He has missed you, dear one, do not doubt that." She sketched a faint smile, but she did not feel it. Legolas was about to offer her his arm, but Haldir beat him to it, giving the Mirkwood elf a firm glance. Stepping back in acceptance, the ghost of a smirk on his lips, Legolas proceeded to lead them to the end of the Hall.

As they approached, the scattered Mirkwood elves paused, some staring in curiosity, others beginning to whisper to their neighbours. It wasn't long at all before Aeslin caught her first glance of her father in over four centuries. Thranduil sat on his great antlered throne far above the Hall, looking down over his court with the same cold imperiousness Aeslin remembered from her childhood. The picture of nobility, Thranduil sat with the wild grace and poise of a predatory cat, his crown of thorns and leaves placed perfectly on his silvery-blonde head, his mahogany robes draped elegantly around him; all restrained power and sharp majesty. His pale beauty was as cold and harsh as the frost of deep winter. He watched his youngest child approach with hard, piercing eyes.

Stopping before the Lord of Mirkwood, Legolas paused on the dais before the great throne, turning from his father to his sister, who followed close behind, a small smile on his face as he glanced to her. Taking his cues from his wife, Haldir stood stock still, though he did not presume to stare down the King as his wife did. Aeslin looked straight ahead, an almost challenging air to the gaze she fixed on Thranduil. Haldir had heard from Elrond that Aeslin favoured her mother, but in this instant, Haldir only saw the Mirkwood King in his wife; the same fair beauty echoed only by the purest of snow and eyes keen and blue as the bright winter sky.

"Father, I present before you Aeslin, your daughter, returned to us after so many years." Aeslin sank into a deep curtsey as tradition dictated, though she did not lower her eyes. His cold gaze fixed on his daughter, Thranduil's lips curved into a hard smile, one that contained little joy or warmth. Legolas, seeing this, grew concerned, but he continued anyway once Aeslin rose.

"I also present before you Haldir of Lorien, Marchwarden to Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood, husband to your daughter." He very nearly hesitated on the last line of his introduction, wary of his father's reactions. To his credit, as Thranduil's critical eyes turned to him, Haldir gave his bow with the perfect amount of deference, his face unreadable. Silence fell over the court, waiting for the King to respond.

Finally the King rose from his throne and descended to the landing below, watching Aeslin again with a considering gaze as he stepped forward, coming to stand in front of his daughter. Reaching toward her, he placed a hand on her cheek, a faint smile coming to his face that could almost be considered tender, though it did little to melt the cold austerity of his demeanor.

"Welcome home, my daughter," was all he said before retreating, climbing up to take his seat again. Recognizing her father's words were also a dismissal of sorts, Aeslin bowed her head in deference before stepping back and descending back down from the throne, Haldir close behind her. Below them, the court resumed their conversations, the silence and some of the tension of a moment before evaporating. Following them down from his place on the dais, Legolas came over to the couple.

"Well," he said softly to the both of them, "that was not so bad, was it?" Haldir raised his eyebrows in a show of skepticism.

"Is he always so cheerful?" With a cynical look of his own, Legolas, glanced over his shoulder at his father.

"If you can believe it. He's actually better now than he was even a mere handful of years ago," He was quite serious, Haldir noted with surprise and not a little dismay. If that was cheerful, he was nervous to see him upset. Aeslin, meanwhile, continued to look up at her father, her face unreadable. Haldir, however, could feel the turmoil engulfing her. Reaching out, he took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

 _He has always been as you see him now_ , he heard through their bond, _and yet, still I hoped_ … They exchanged a long glance that was just as full of unspoken thoughts as one between Galadriel and Celeborn, something that Legolas noticed.

"You have changed, little sister." She turned to her brother, who wore an expression of deep fondness. "You've grown up." A faint smile appeared on her face, but it soon faded.

"Yes, I have." She looked back to their father, musing out loud, though her voice was little more than a whisper. "But I wonder if he has noticed." Legolas had no answer, for though he had known their father for a great deal longer than Aeslin had, there were still a great many times he had no idea what he were thinking.

After a while, Legolas led them out of the Great Hall, taking them instead to a smaller, more private chamber. It was a few long moments before any of them said a word, none of them moving to sit or stand nearer to the fire. Aeslin, now that she was out of her father's imperious presence, was struggling to regain control of her emotions, her grip tightening painfully on Haldir's hand. He made no further move, his attention focused on his wife, reaching out through her bond in an attempt to help. After a moment Legolas let out a mighty sigh, concern growing in his eyes.

"I know that was hard for you, Aeslin," he stepped forward, hesitating when Aeslin stayed frozen where she stood, a sorrowful expression on her face. After another moment, he came to stand in front of his sister, tentatively taking Aeslin's face in his hands. When Aeslin's eyes met his, the Woodland Prince's expression of concern eased, a faint smile coming to his lips. "It is good to have you home, sister. It truly has not been the same here without you." Aeslin tried to smile, but found the effort too much.

"Nothing is the way I remember it, Legolas, save Father. It doesn't feel like home anymore." Her voice was small, ashamed almost, but she held her brother's gaze, searching. Legolas leaned forward, laying a kiss on his little sister's forehead before pulling her into his embrace, suppressing a sigh of relief when she returned it.

"I know, dear one. It pains me that you never really knew him as he was before… well, before. And trust me when I say that Mirkwood is not what it used to be either; it has changed for me too, and not just because of the darkness." With a half-smile, he released her. Then he turned to Haldir, his manner shifting slightly until it was a look of appraisal that met the Marchwarden's gaze.

"So you are the one to have stolen my sister's heart, Haldir of Lorien." His tone was casual but there was an undercurrent of curiosity beneath his words. Haldir dipped his head for an instant, silently thankful for the change in topic.

"Indeed, My Lord. I am fortunate to call myself her husband and her my wife." Legolas studied him, his gaze now unabashedly inquisitive.

"And a Marchwarden," he turned his eyes to Aeslin, "an—unexpected choice." Had it not been for the way his eyes sparkled merrily, the comment might have come across as pretentious. Aeslin's expression shifted from one of unhappiness to one of satisfaction.

"But my choice nonetheless." Legolas chuckled.

"Yes, your choice, as it should be. Though, I do believe Father had something—slightly different in mind." Legolas couldn't help but notice the way Aeslin's expression went blank, though a shimmer of resentment surfaced behind her eyes. Mentally he began berating himself, "Aeslin, I—" Her expression softened at his apologetic tone, though she didn't meet his eyes. The Woodland Prince turned his gaze back to Haldir for a moment before turning away, moving over toward the chairs pulled near the fireplace. Legolas gestured for them both to sit, giving Aeslin an entreating glance. After a moment Aeslin followed, but not before giving her husband a questioning glance of her own. He reached out to her through their bond, reassuring her. Satisfied, for the moment at least, the two of them followed Legolas.

The exchange did not go unnoticed by Legolas, especially when Aeslin visibly relaxed, though he kept his thoughts to himself. He only politely averted his gaze, aware that the exchange was private, especially upon seeing the tenderness that passed between them, and the protective stance that came over Haldir. It was a telling moment, an unconscious demonstration of the love between the Marchwarden and the Healer, not that Legolas had needed further proof of their connection; he hadn't truly needed any convincing in the first place. He did have to admit to himself that, when he had first heard the news of his sister pledging herself to the Marchwarden, there had been a sliver of doubt in the far recesses of his mind. He couldn't help but wonder for the briefest of moments if, being so young, his little sister had actually found a true love match. It was immensely rare for elves as young as Aeslin to bond so strongly to another. It was in that moment, though, that Legolas knew for certain that she had formed such a bond with Haldir.

The rest of the evening was pleasant enough. They were interrupted only briefly when an attendant brought them some dinner, something Aeslin was grateful for; she was not ready to handle a public feast just yet. Legolas tried to smooth things over as best he could, softening Aeslin toward the home she didn't remember as well as she'd thought. Haldir tried to do his part as well, encouraging Aeslin as best he could through their bond as he tried to show as much interest and absorb as much information about Mirkwood as Legolas could give. Aeslin, however, wanted little to do discussing her childhood home, overwhelmed as she was by simply arriving and meeting with her father. After a while, though, her weariness began to tell, and her manner became more subdued. It was Haldir who finally came to her rescue.

"My Lord, I fear the day has been long, and our journey has been longer still," the Marchwarden offered quietly. Suddenly mortified that he hadn't registered the exhaustion now clearly written on his sister's face, Legolas looked to Aeslin, who was staring into the fire. A faint, affectionate smile on his face, Legolas stood, holding out his hands to help Aeslin to her feet, an offer she accepted. Upon standing Haldir placed a protective arm around his wife's shoulders before looking to Legolas. Unconsciously she leaned into her husband. Until that moment, she hadn't fully realized herself just how tired she was.

With a smile, Aeslin's brother reached out, clapping Haldir on the shoulder.

"You are lucky to have my sister's love, my friend," he said quietly.

* * *

That night, the instant her head hit the pillow, Aeslin was sound asleep. Haldir, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. He sat awake for a long time, contemplating the events of the day. He knew from Aeslin that her father was not the most demonstrative of parents, nor that he was particularly forthcoming with any hint of compassion even when in the presence of family alone, but, like Aeslin, he had still expected, well, more.

Legolas had truly surprised him, though. He was far more than courteous to him; he had wholly welcomed Haldir as his sister's husband without even batting an eye. Haldir knew that Aeslin absolutely adored her brother, but he had still anticipated a little reluctance from the Woodland Prince. After all, Aeslin was still Legolas' little sister, and she was still very young. He had anticipated Legolas testing him, pushing him, trying to decide if he was worthy to be pledged to his beloved sister. Haldir was still anticipating some form of test from the King's son, but he also knew that Legolas' immediate acceptance of him had meant everything to the young healer. It was also obvious that he held no such hopes for someone of higher rank than a Marchwarden as husband for his sister, and certainly didn't care that Haldir was a Silvan elf. He just wanted her happiness.

Thranduil, on the other hand, was a mystery. Aeslin was certain that he would not approve of Haldir, either for being a Marchwarden or not being Sindarin, but most likely both. Time would soon tell just what the King on the Woodland Realm thought of his daughter's choice of husband; that was what worried him. No matter what Thranduil said of him, Haldir could not care less, save where his wife was involved. Aeslin was strong, there was no doubt about that; she was very much her father's daughter on that count. But when it came to her father, she was severely at risk of getting hurt. That was something Haldir would not tolerate.

Eventually, though, his musings began to give way to thoughts of sleep. Slipping into bed beside his wife, he too began to drift off, though not before Aeslin had nestled herself into his arms, still deep in the clutches of sleep. Reaching out through their bond, he brushed against her consciousness, put at ease by the drowsy peace of her mind. Content, the Marchwarden let sleep take him too.

* * *

Though the tension never truly dissipated, Aeslin eventually started to relax in the presence of her father. Like Haldir was of a habit to do, she had taken to shielding herself with a more indifferent and aloof demeanor, though it was certainly unsuited to her personality. She had once been used to doing so, but she had gradually been weaned of the habit during her stay in Rivendell. By the time Haldir had met her, nearly all trace of the detached, almost emotionless face she had developed in her childhood had disappeared. It was surprisingly easy to recover the habit, though, and before long, Aeslin found it becoming second nature again. Haldir would've been lying, though, if he said he liked it; he greatly preferred it when she wore her feelings for all to see, when the only time she withdrew was when tending to a patient. He preferred to see her smile and laugh. Since coming to Mirkwood, he found she rarely laughed anymore.

Legolas too, took notice of the reversion in his sister. The few times he had seen her in Rivendell, even when she was saddened, she was still a great deal more lively than he remembered her being as a child. She had been such a solemn elfling. Even the difference in her upon first arriving in Mirkwood was remarkable. Now, however, even with the positive effect of Haldir's presence, she was beginning to remind him of the serious child she used to be, when he had been the only one to earn her smiles.

"How much longer does Father wish us to stay," Aeslin asked Legolas one evening, nearly a year since they had arrived in Mirkwood. The older elf froze, his eyes darting to his sister. She gazed at him mildly, waiting for a response.

"I do not know, Aeslin, but a part of me is inclined to believe he wishes you to stay here." For the first time in several weeks, her eyes flashed. Beside her, Haldir stiffened, feeling her temper and thus his own rising fast. Legolas, though, knew to be wary. He had noticed how compromised the Marchwarden's patience had become within the Court of Mirkwood.

"My home is in Lorien. I have duties, as does Haldir. Father cannot keep us here indefinitely," she said calmly, though her eyes still flashed angrily. Legolas reached over, taking her hand.

"I know that, dear one. But I cannot control him, you know that. And Mirkwood was your home once, and you have only just returned. You know he will not take it well that you wish to leave so soon." He finished gently, though his tone was also urging caution. She frowned, though resignation flickered across her face.

"I know, brother, and I have not forgotten that I wanted this too, once; to come home to Mirkwood," Aeslin closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her composure, "but that was before I found a new home. Legolas, Lorien is where I belong now, with Haldir."

"You know Father will not see it like that."

"He has barely even taken the time to see me since I arrived."

"Aeslin—"

"Legolas, you are my brother and I love you dearly. You are far more in his confidence than I. Please!"

"I am not so in his confidence as I used to be, Aeslin. I told you of that," Legolas' answer was little more than a tired sigh. Aeslin's temper cooled at the look in his eyes.

She had heard all about the events surrounding the Death of Smaug the Destroyer and the Battle of the Five Armies. She had heard all about her father's near madness during those harrowing days and Legolas' disillusionment in their father. She had heard of her Father's banishment of Tauriel for her insolence in disobeying him—and, from what Aeslin had heard whispered, her feelings for one of the Erebor dwarves—and her death soon after from wounds she had sustained during the battle at the foot of the Lonely Mountain; that was the story Aeslin had heard whispered throughout Mirkwood. When Legolas had told her of Tauriel's fate, it had sounded more like the Silvan huntress had succumbed to a broken heart more than any injury; to an elf, a broken heart could be lethal as any sword or arrow, for they felt love on a far deeper level than just about any in Middle Earth.

She also knew her brother had even left Mirkwood for a short time following those days, and had really only recently returned to the Woodland realm himself. She knew he still wasn't convinced that he should have come back. Aeslin left her chair, coming to sit at his side. Her gaze was as insistent as her voice, though she strove to temper it with empathy as best she could.

"Please! Tell me what Father is trying to do. What is his intent?" Legolas shook his head.

"Truly, sister, if I knew I would tell you." She scoffed at his answer, but Legolas knew better than to take it personally. She knew he told the truth. After a moment, she spoke again.

"I wish to speak with him." Legolas sighed. He knew that tone.

"I will see what I can do, dear one, but he keeps his own council. You know this."

"I do know it. Please, Legolas." Desperation had begun to creep into her voice. Haldir placed a hand on her shoulder. Pressing her eyes shut, Aeslin reached up to grasp his hand, the contact helping her to calm down. She took a deep breath, preparing to speak again, but Haldir beat her to it.

"Perhaps it is time we departed." She turned slightly as Haldir spoke. Legolas looked at them both, a frown forming on his face.

"I agree," she whispered. She opened her eyes, looking up at her older brother. "I have longed to return to Mirkwood since I left; I ached to return to the home of my childhood. But now that I have come back, I find that it is Lorien my heart now craves. The Lady was right, as was Arwen, and you, my love," she turned to face her husband, "Mirkwood has become very dark indeed, especially to me." Her hushed voice was laden with grief.

After a long moment Legolas stood. "Come with me."


	14. Chapter 13

**Confrontation**

Legolas led her directly to Thranduil's private rooms, walking past the King's honour guards and into the dim quarters without hesitation. It was a moment's pause that Aeslin followed, her anxiety pulsing in her chest. Haldir had agreed to wait behind to give the siblings some much needed time with their father. She could tell from the look on his face when they had parted that he was far from happy, but that he knew it was necessary. That he did not trust the King was evident to everyone, and neither Aeslin nor Legolas could blame him.

The King of Mirkwood was not pleased to be interrupted in such a manner. He leaned languidly back in his seat, his easy posture belying the air of impatience about him.

"I trust you have a good reason for this disturbance, my son." He looked up, surveying Aeslin in one quick glance. Legolas appeared unfazed but his father's terse greeting, if it was even to be called that.

"You invited my sister to return to Mirkwood, and have yet to truly speak with her. I think it is high time you do so, Father." The King of Mirkwood stood, pulling himself up to his full height.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because I did not return in order to be ignored, Father. Am I not your daughter? Do I not deserve your courtesy?" Aeslin's voice was quiet, but her irritation bled through her calm demeanor. Thranduil's cold gaze came to rest upon his daughter. He made a sound that sounded oddly like a sarcastic laugh.

"Courtesy? After the courtesy you have shown me?" She clenched her jaw, her eyes flickering with ire at his response. "To marry without my blessing is no show of courtesy on your part."

"Then you should not have banished me from my home, nor given me away as a ward when there was no plausible excuse to keep me away any longer." The words were out of Aeslin's mouth before she could stop them. Thranduil's face darkened. Legolas tried to intercede, to calm them, but he was largely ignored.

"That was for your own protection."

"My protection. Yes, I have heard that before. Let me tell you this, Father, I did not feel so protected, not when I discovered you lied to me." Thranduil looked as if she had slapped him. "'When you complete your training?' That was never the intention, was it? That I wished to learn the arts of healing was convenient. You cannot deny that."

"I must admit, there were times I doubted my decision to send you to Rivendell. Now I can see the cost. You have changed since you left, Aeslin. You were never like this; obstinate, ungrateful." He was nearly sneering as he spoke, though something flickered in his eyes that Aeslin couldn't quite place. The hurt and pain the Mirkwood Princess had been suppressing for centuries and trying to let go of was suddenly fanned to life once again. In a corner of her mind she could feel Haldir responding to her distress, anxiety beginning to bloom in him.

"Ungrateful? I have only ever done what you asked!" The anger in her voice broke, revealing the heartbreak that only her husband had known lingered. The depth of the grief in her voice shook even Legolas, who had already known of her suffering at being sent so far from home. Thranduil watched her silently, the first true expression of sorrow she had ever seen from him casting a shadow on his features. She was close to tears as she continued, but she never dropped her father's gaze.

"My life belongs to me, now. I will not have you dictate where I am to live or whom to love. I have only ever tried to please you, Father. I only ever wanted to make you happy, but all that led to was doubt in myself and grief at the lack interest you had shown me. So I decided to make myself happy. I followed my heart, and my heart led me to Lorien, a place of brightness and light. Were it not for my brother, I would never have come back." It was now bitterness that clouded her voice, bitterness and resolve.

"You belong here, Aeslin. That you cannot deny. You are of the Woodland Realm; it is in your blood. You will see, my daughter. You will remember that this is your home." The words were firm, but the tone underlying those words was something else, something, like the look Aeslin had seen a moment before, that she did not recognize. Aeslin could only shake her head.

"No, Father. It is time Haldir and I returned home," she said calmly, though she was eyeing the King warily, "it is time we returned to Lorien." Thranduil scoffed, turning his back on his children.

"The Marchwarden. It is because of him that your perception of us has been so twisted." Aeslin stared at her father in disbelief, anger beginning to seethe within her. She was beginning to lose control of her temper, her fingers curling into fists. A sting of pain prickled up her arm as her own nails bit into her palm. She could feel Haldir's protective instincts flaring through their bond. He'd had enough of waiting from afar. Normally, she would have she tried to calm him, to beg his patience, but she was too shocked and hurt by her father's blunt dismissal of her feelings. The look of shock on Legolas' face nearly matched the one on his sister's.

"Father, you cannot—" but he was interrupted again by Aeslin's coldly furious voice.

"I cannot believe you would say that. I do love him, yes. But I fell in love with Lorien first. It is not solely because of him that I wish to make my home there, I assure you." Aeslin was no longer trying to hold back her growing ire, but Mirkwood's King didn't care. He spun to face his daughter, his eyes flashing dangerously. In that moment she felt fear flash through her; for the briefest of instants she was afraid of her father, and the way his eyes glinted. Unfortunately, the flash of that very fear through their bond only further incensed her husband.

"Careful, child. My patience is not infinite, not even for you. I will not stand for your impudence, or this insult." His voice was low and cold and the finger he pointed at her to punctuate his words was threatening. Aeslin's alarm quickly turned back to anger of her own. She could also feel her husband drawing close, and began to back away from her Father.

"What insult? I followed your wishes. I cannot help that Mirkwood no longer holds sway over my heart, just as you cannot help that it holds sway over yours." When Aeslin spoke her voice was just as cold as her father's. But before Thranduil could respond, Haldir came bursting through the door, followed closely by Thranduil's personal guards. One look at the scene before him and Haldir was moving to his wife's side, but the instant he saw the angry flush on her cheeks and the way her father was looking furiously at her, his eyes flashed, turning to Thranduil as what little reason he had left abandoned him. The instant before he lunged, he was caught by the Mirkwood guards. At once, Aeslin and Legolas yelled out, but not before one of the guards dealt Haldir a harsh blow to the stomach.

In a rush, it felt like all the air had been slammed from Aeslin's chest. As Haldir grunted in pain, Aeslin doubled over herself, her reaction mirroring his. Panic flashing on his features, Legolas leapt forward, catching his sister before she fell. Haldir's rage was gone in an instant when he looked up to see Aeslin gasping, trying to regain her breath even as he did. Thranduil surveyed the scene looking as imperious as ever, save for the alarm in his eyes.

"Release him," Legolas snapped, earning an immediate response, "leave us!" As the guards bowed out, Haldir got to his feet. He eyed the King warily for a moment before he stepped to Aeslin's side, unconsciously placing himself between her and her father. Legolas relinquished his sister into the arms of her husband, bringing his own piercing gaze to bear on Thranduil.

"That is enough, Father." His voice was soft and deadly, startling the King. Thranduil's gaze flickered to Aeslin, taking in the riot of emotions present on her face. For an instant a look of guilt suffused his features before he hid it beneath a cold mask.

"It is time for them to return to Lorien," the Woodland Prince continued. There was a distinct air of disappointment in his voice, though whether that was because of the reality of her leaving Mirkwood, or his father's behavior, Aeslin couldn't be sure. Thranduil's gaze flicked to Haldir for a split second, something that didn't escape anyone's notice. Aeslin's fury was building again, so much so that the air around her seemed charged.

"It is only with my leave that they may depart, my son. Or have you forgotten that I am the Master here," Thranduil retorted, glaring at his son as he sank back into his chair. It was meant to be a reprimand, but there was little bite to it. Something in the King's manner had shifted the instant his guards had subdued Haldir. Legolas sighed, well aware that the anger had bled out of his father. It was something Aeslin saw as well, her own anger draining away. There was a hushed pause before Legolas spoke again, sympathy in his voice now, rather than disappointment.

"Can you not see the change in her?" It was a long moment before Thranduil spoke, unable to look either of his children in the eye.

"You know I cannot deny that, Legolas. I remember well how quiet a child she was. You have no idea just how precious her smiles were to me, especially after Lasbereth…. But she was so young, so fragile; too fragile and pure for Mirkwood." His voice was barely audible, but his gaze swung up to meet Legolas', a flicker of his earlier vehemence returning. "You know letting her go was the hardest thing I have ever done, and I have no wish to do it again. I cannot lose her as well." Silence reigned when his voice faded. Haldir could only tighten his embrace of Aeslin; she was trembling in his arms. Eventually Legolas sighed, taking a hesitant step toward his father.

"By not letting her go, you would lose her." He took another step forward, steadily holding Thranduil's gaze as he spoke. "She is happy in the life she has chosen, Father. That is clear to me. How is it not to you?" he said sadly.

"She could be happy here once again." Thranduil said firmly, but his affected confidence was undermined by the doubt that was flickering in his eyes. Aeslin suddenly understood the expression she hadn't been able to decipher; it was fear borne out of unfathomable, irrational love. Understanding seemed to crash in on Aeslin as she watched the cracks appearing in her Father's usually unwavering composure. Legolas slowly shook his head, but it was Aeslin who spoke, drawing all eyes to her as she stepped out of Haldir's embrace, taking a hesitant step toward the King.

"No, Father. I couldn't. I wish I could answer differently, but Mirkwood is now a part of my past." Her voice was soft and sad, mirroring the expression growing in Thranduil's eyes. "I am sorry, Father, but I can no longer turn back." Haldir laid his hand on her shoulder, drawing the King's gaze. After a moment, a faint, humourless smile came to his face.

"Well, at least I now know that your bond is true, and that your husband will keep you safe." Aeslin reached up, her hand coming to rest against her husband's. No matter how hard she tried though, she could not seem to spare a smile. She was too tired and emotionally drained. She closed her eyes, holding back tears that began to glisten therein. After a moment, she opened them again, meeting her father's reluctant gaze, his vibrant eyes dulled by sorrow. Her heart went out to him in that moment.

"I only ever wanted your love, Father, and for you to be proud of me." Thranduil was the first to lower his eyes, visibly overwhelmed by remorse. While Aeslin verged on losing what little emotional control she still had, Haldir was on the verge of losing his temper. Restraining the urge to lash out at the source of his wife's grief, he instead gathered her into his arms. Grateful, she buried her face in his chest, concentrating for a moment on regaining control of herself. Eventually, she pulled back looking up into her husband's face. He leaned down so that their foreheads touched, pouring reassurance though their bond, relieved when she finally began to relax.

"I am proud, Aeslin." Thranduil's voice was soft as he spoke. Aeslin turned to face him, a hand still grasping the fabric of Haldir's tunic while his arm remained protectively around her waist. "And you have my love. You never lost it." Slowly he stood, walking over to where she stood with Haldir. The Marchwarden was still wary, and not afraid of letting his mistrust show on his features. Thranduil looked at him for a moment, gauging him before turning back to Aeslin. He laid his hand on her cheek. For once, Aeslin was not at all tempted to pull away, instead leaning into the contact. It was a gentleness she had not seen in her father since a time almost beyond memory.

Withdrawing his hand after what seemed like an eternity, he took a step back, surveying both his daughter and her husband. "You have my leave to depart whenever you wish, daughter mine. Your brother will guide you to the borders of this land when you are ready, ensuring your safe passage through the darkness." This time Aeslin did manage a small smile.

"I am grateful, Father, not just for your leave, but for everything you have done for me. Though there is still pain in my heart from my first leave-taking, I think I begin to understand why you acted as you did. More than that, I find I can no longer wholly regret your choice to send me away, for it led me to where I stand now." Her words were halting at first, and the truth of her words startled even Aeslin. She hadn't realized until that moment, upon seeing her Father's pain, that she no longer truly felt the same resentment toward him as she had so long ago; she may not have entirely forgiven him yet, but the wounds on her heart had already been healing for a long while. She looked up at Haldir, relief suffusing her features. He returned her gaze, his own relief showing in his eyes despite the severe expression that lingered on his face.

When she turned her attention back to her father, his attention was on Haldir, a faint expression of wonder gracing his aristocratic features.

"I will be honest, and admit a Silvan Marchwarden was certainly not my first choice for one worthy of my daughter's pledge," he said lightly. Haldir tensed, his grim expression never wavering, but Thranduil held up a hand in truce, "But I see in her eyes and her actions that she truly cares for you. I would have to be a blind fool not to see the strength of the bond you share with her." He looked down to Aeslin, who watched him in surprise. A faint smile came to his face.

"You have my blessing, daughter mine. My dearest wish has always been for your happiness; that is all I have ever wished, and all your mother ever wished. I can see you have found that with your husband." An expression of astonishment broke out on Aeslin's face as her tears were finally released, only this time in elation. On impulse she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her father. Stunned, Thranduil could only stand there for a moment before enclosing her in a tight hug, his hand on her fair hair. When he finally released her, he looked down at his daughter's face, relief coursed through him at the unabashed joy he found there. Gently stroking her cheek, he smiled.

"I used to hold you like this once, when you were very small. I doubt you remember that now." To his surprise, though, Aeslin nodded.

"I do; I never wanted for your love then."

"I am sorry, my child."

"I know, Ada."

* * *

After coming to a fragile peace with her father, the Woodland Realm began to seem a little less grim to its Princess. But, even though she began to feel more at ease in her childhood home, Aeslin saw little point in remaining in Mirkwood, something Haldir agreed with. Both of them missed the lightness and sun in the Golden Wood, and Aeslin especially was deeply affected by the overwhelming darkness and shadow that seeped and crawled amid the gnarled trees and choked underbrush of the deep forest. The sickness that had overwhelmed the Greenwood was beginning to abate with the cleansing of Dol Guldur, but it was still far from well. They both longed for the peace of Lorien.

They began their preparations not long after the confrontation with Thranduil. Having accomplished what they set out to do in Mirkwood they were anxious to return to their home. As the season turned for the fifth time since their arrival in Mirkwood, the couple was ready to depart.

One afternoon in particular, Aeslin sought out Legolas in order to finalize their plans and see to getting an escort out of the woods. She finally found him in one of the main court's private sitting rooms. She was almost hesitant to interrupt his reading, for she knew he would be saddened to hear that she wanted to leave, and she also knew he would hide it. Nevertheless, she knew her task needed to be done. Slipping quietly inside, she walked across the small room, settling herself down beside him on the couch he lounged on. Looking briefly over the top of his book, he smiled as she tucked her legs up beside her.

"I imagine there is purpose to you crowding me?" he said teasingly as he turned the page. Aeslin gave his knee a playful shove.

"Must I always have a reason to see you, my dear brother?" Closing his book, he fixed his full attention on her.

"No. But I can see you are wary. Whenever you got that look on your face, it always meant you had something to ask of me." She harrumphed, leaning back against the cushions. Legolas straightened. After a moment, Aeslin sighed in resignation.

"You are right, though; there is a reason I have sought you out," she finally said tentatively. Legolas nodded, lauding himself in a playfully exaggerated fashion for being right. Aeslin couldn't help but smile, shaking her head slightly at his antics before sobering. "It is time Haldir and I returned home." Though his expression didn't change, she saw his eyes grow sad.

"I see."

"Legolas—" He stopped her.

"Aeslin, I understand. You grow restless, even through your peace with Father; you long for home. I can see it in your eyes day by day." Aeslin nodded in reluctant agreement; reluctant in that leaving Mirkwood meant leaving him.

"We all have our duties. Yours is here, mine is not. It is time we departed. We need passage out of Mirkwood," she said quietly.

"Very well. I will escort you to the border myself if Father does not object." He laid a hand on her calf. "It has been good to have you here, little sister. I will miss you." Picking up his book, he appeared to resume his reading, though she could see his eyes were unfocused and thoughtful. So Aeslin did not move for a long while, content to sit with her brother for the time being. For once, things were peaceful for Aeslin within the borders of Mirkwood.

* * *

It was early morning again when Aeslin took her leave of her childhood home for the second time. Like the first, Legolas stood at her side as her Father gave his almost indifferent farewell. She knew better now. It was not indifferent, and she found that realizing that made all the difference. There were still several other differences though. Haldir now also stood beside her, and when Aeslin stood before her father for one last goodbye, he took her face in his hands.

"Be happy, Aeslin. Know you are always welcome here, and that you are beloved to me. I think even I forgot that for a time. It will not happen again." Though his face was closed off, she could see in his eyes how hard this leave-taking was for him. She responded with a smile, though, for she was not obliged to shield her feelings as he was. It was then that he reached into his robes, drawing out a small leather satchel. She looked at him in confusion when he pressed it into her hands, his long fingers covering hers even as hers cradled the bundle. As he stared at the bundle in their hands, his mask cracked, his eyes misted with sorrow and memory.

"I had these made for your mother, only she never saw them. She was lost before they were completed. Then they were lost to me. We may not have shared a bond such as you and your Marchwarden share, but I did love her greatly, and I have yearned to recover these nearly every moment since I felt her passing, such do they remind me of her. It was only in the last few years past, with the slaying of the great dragon that retrieving them has been possible." Her brow still furrowed in confusion, Aeslin undid the leather ties, revealing a couple smaller, velvet-wrapped bundles. Withdrawing one, she gently drew the thick fabric aside. She gasped, tears springing to her eyes. She heard Legolas' sharp intake of breath beside her, but she could not tear her eyes away even to glance at him. Set in the finest setting of pale silvers and golds were jewels of the purest white light; they looked to be made of the stars themselves.

"The White Gems of Lasgalen," Legolas murmured, reaching out to touch the shining jewels with reverence. Thranduil nodded gently before replacing the velvet over them, wrapping them once again within Aeslin's fingers. When he finally spoke again, his words were soft and full of memory.

"It is fitting that they should go to you, my child, for, in truth, you are far more dear to me than these gems should ever have been. I had forgotten just how so. One wiser than her years told me once that I had no love in me. She also asked me also why love hurt so; I buried the love I had for you, my children, because of the agony losing one I loved had brought upon me. I see that now. It was you, and your brother, who have reminded me of what I had so foolishly disregarded.

"I was wrong, Aeslin, terribly wrong. You do deserve this happiness, and I am glad that you have found it in your Marchwarden. Your mother would be proud of you, dear one, for she loved you and your brother with everything she was."

He then laid a kiss on her brow, granting her his blessing. Aeslin couldn't help but reach out, touching her fingers to her father's cheek. There was a ring of truth to his words, earning a genuine smile from Aeslin. Beside her, Haldir waited to receive his farewell from Thranduil, his attention wholly on the exchange between the King and his daughter.

"Love is mysterious. It can lead us to the most unlikely of places. I am glad you realize now how important he is to me. How much he is tied to me, and I to him. Thank you, Ada." Thranduil smiled, but a faint shadow hung in his eyes. Unsure of its meaning, Aeslin left it well enough alone. She was content.

A short while later they departed.

* * *

At the border of Mirkwood, Aeslin was forced to bid yet another goodbye, one that was significantly harder than the one before. Dismounting, she stood before her brother, finding her emotions more difficult to control than they had been in a long while.

"I will miss you, dear brother. That is indeed my one regret in leaving Mirkwood behind me. You've always been there for me, no matter what. You were always my protector, my best friend." Legolas gave her a sorrowful smile of his own, but she could also see that he was genuinely happy for her.

"I shall miss you as well, little sister. But it seems you have a new protector now. Take care of him, as I am sure he will care for you." He spared a glance at Haldir, who nodded his head in thanks, touched by Legolas' conviction. With one last embrace, she mounted her horse.

"She is the most precious thing in my life, Haldir of Lorien. You care for my sister; let no harm come to her," Legolas added to the Marchwarden alone, his voice hushed. Haldir nodded brusquely, raising his hand to his breast in respect.

"Do not fear, Legolas of Mirkwood. She may be the most precious thing in your life, but she is my life. While I live and breathe, no harm shall come to her."

Then they departed.


	15. Chapter 14

**Time Passes**

One facet of the magic in Lothlorien was that time seemed to move slowly, if it even seemed to pass at all, when in truth time has flown. Before Aeslin knew it, another twenty or so years had gone by, and yet it felt like none had passed at all. Arwen, though, grew discontented as the years passed, something that didn't escape the notice of those around her. Aeslin especially saw the shift in her almost-sister, and wondered.

"You have changed, Arwen. A restlessness has formed in you that was not there before. What is it that troubles you?" Arwen shot her a stern look.

"It is nothing," the dark-haired elf maintained. Aeslin couldn't help but doubt that.

"It most certainly is not." A sudden inspiration came to the healer. "It does not have to do with a certain man, does it?" Arwen refused to meet her gaze. Aeslin sighed, knowing she was right.

"I cannot stop thinking about him," Arwen finally whispered, "wondering where he is, what he is doing. If he ever thinks of me; if he even remembers me." She trailed off. Aeslin stood from her seat, going over to sit beside her friend.

"Though I am not sure there is anyone, anywhere, that could ever forget you, I certainly don't think a mere man could miss the beauty of our Evenstar, nor dare forget her." That earned a small smile from the older elf. "I worry for you, though." Now it was Arwen's turn to frown.

"You do not need to worry for me."

"But I do," Aeslin said emphatically, "If whatever it is you feel is strong enough, and unrequited, you could fade away. You know how deeply our race feels love, you heard as well as I the fate of Tauriel; she died because of her love. Her dwarf was killed in front of her and her heart broke. And if it is love that grows between you and Aragorn… he is mortal and you are not. I fear what loving him would do to you, if that is truly the path you are meant to take. You are my dearest friend; the closest thing to a sister I have."

Arwen leaned against Aeslin, who placed an arm around her friend's shoulder.

"As are you to me. But I do not fear that future if that is what lies before me. What I fear is being loveless for all the days of my life. There are a great many times when I feel numb, lost…alone. You once felt as I do, Aeslin, I know you did. But then you found Haldir." Aeslin had little to say to that, for Arwen was right.

"One day, Arwen, one day you shall find it."

As luck would have it, the Rivendell elf was soon to confront the object of her anxieties. As it was, Aeslin did not learn of this until after the fact, so concerned was Arwen about being discouraged from her path.

Nearly thirty years had passed since their first meeting, and yet very little had apparently changed in him.

"He is older and wiser, yes, but still so much like he had been that day in the garden," she told Aeslin. "It was pure chance that I should've seen him here. It was fate."

"He was in Lorien?" Aeslin was startled by the declaration. It was the first she had heard of Aragorn's visit to the Golden Wood. Arwen nodded.

"Yes. He came, as if answering my prayers. As I walked among the blooming elanor and niphredil of Cerin Amroth, suddenly he was there. It was twilight, and as the moon rose, he appeared. He told me I was as a dream to him, and had been since he saw me in Imladris." Arwen smiled, looking more joyful than Aeslin had ever seen her. "Every day since until his departure we met there, sometimes for hours, sometimes for mere moments stolen from the flow of the day. I knew in my heart that my destiny lay with him. He loves me, Aeslin, and I love him.

"We promised to marry, Aeslin. There, on Cerin Amroth." Aeslin was astonished, and despite the warning in her heart she was immeasurably happy for her friend.

"Marry, Arwen?" With a laugh, the two embraced. When they pulled apart though, Arwen's voice grew serious.

"I told him I would forsake the life of our people and bind myself to him." Aeslin watched the shift in Arwen's expression. Tears sprang to Aeslin's eyes, something that her friend noticed, concern replacing her assured conviction. The Healer saw the question in her eyes.

"Do not make this decision lightly, Arwen. But it is your choice. If that is truly what you choose, where your heart lies, I wish you naught but joy. But I will miss you, my sister." Arwen reached up and brushed away a stray tear that had fallen onto Aeslin's cheek, her face compassionate beneath her concern.

"I know. But I know now, in my heart, that to live without him would be to have no life at all." With a smile, Aeslin nodded, a faint laugh escaping her.

"That I can understand."

* * *

As Aeslin suspected, Arwen's announcement of her betrothal to Aragorn had mixed reactions. The only one who did not seem particularly astonished was Galadriel, something that didn't really surprise Aeslin. In fact, the Lady was one of the few who didn't immediately question Arwen's choice, accepting that the Ranger was her destiny and that their love was true and deep. Celeborn, on the other hand, was not so pleased. He had come to know Aragorn during his time in Lorien, and the Ranger had earned the Lord of Lorien's respect, but he was not happy about the price his only granddaughter would have to pay for her love; death.

However, the shock of Arwen's secret betrothal to a mortal was soon overshadowed by greater threats. In the east, Sauron of Mordor was regaining strength and rebuilding his forces, something that greatly worried the Lord and Lady of Lorien. Haldir also was growing concerned about the growing darkness. Orcs were becoming bolder in the spreading gloom, and Lorien's western borders were being harried all hut constantly by orcs out of Moria. Where before Aeslin had little reason to worry, now, every time Haldir departed for his duties on the borders she was now beset with fear.

Galadriel spent more time before her Mirror, becoming distant, while Celeborn grew more worried as every year passed. Aeslin was not terribly familiar with the tale of Sauron, his mighty ring and his rise to power, or his subsequent defeat at the hands of Isildur. What little she knew was what Elrond had taught her; that the ring was lost and that, unless it was destroyed, the Dark Lord would endure within the world. She remembered, even, the fear she had seen on the Lord and Lady's faces when Sauron's return became known, and the horror she'd felt at witnessing the cost driving him from Dol Goldur had demanded, having been there when the Lady had been returned from the ruined fortress, haunted and weak in Elrond's arms. It had taken a great deal of both her and her mentor's skill and power to help the Lady of Lorien regain her strength and heal from the immensity of her ordeal.

She also knew that Elrond was now keeper to the heirlooms of the Royal House of Gondor; a throne to which Aragorn was heir. However, with what little she did know, she knew the darkness that spread beyond the protected borders of Lorien would only grow. This worried her. She did not have the gift of foresight like Galadriel or Elrond, but she knew that if events continued on the trajectory they followed now, war was in their future.

Years passed, and the darkness grew, and there was a feeling of bitter anticipation that spread with it. Something was waiting to happen, entrapping all those who anticipated what was to pass. Yet life went on as usual, both beyond Lorien and within.

Eventually though, things did begin to change. The Darkness in Mordor, driven by the evil of Sauron, began to spill out beyond the mountains that hemmed its borders. Elrond, wary of the encroaching threat, recalled Arwen to Imladris.

Elladan and Elrohir, along with a party of three other Rivendell elves arrived to retrieve her, each one solemn and guarded. They did not stay long in Lorien, and the morning they departed was one full of melancholy and anxiety. The mountain passes were growing ever more dangerous, causing Elrond's sons no end of concern.

Nevertheless, Aeslin was there to bid them a cheerful farewell, effectively disguising her growing fear for her adoptive family, though doing so took no small effort. Elrohir gave her an especially tight embrace, looking at her critically as he withdrew.

"You could come with us." Aeslin was taken aback by the proposal, having never given any thought to the idea. In the back of her mind, she could feel Haldir musing over the suggestion, considering Elrohir's words. His protective instincts toward her saw the appeal in sending her as far from Mordor as he could, but also baulking at the distance that would be between them and the threats present on the journey there in the first place. But before he could follow his thoughts through to any conclusion, Aeslin gave her answer, a hint of annoyance at her husband beginning to form.

"No, Elrohir. My place is here. Lorien is my home, and its borders are well protected. I will be safe here. You look to yourself. Reach Rivendell safely, for it would break my heart were you or Elladan or Arwen brought to harm." Nodding in acceptance, Elrohir reached for her hands, laying a soft kiss on her fingers.

"Very well." He turned to Haldir, who stood off to the side, out of the way of the farewells, waiting to escort the travelers to the borders of the Wood. They exchanged a look that Aeslin faintly recognized as pleading, though for what she did not know. As Elrohir moved off to receive his farewell from his grandparents, Aeslin moved to Haldir's side, looking up at him.

 _You wish me to go, don't you?_ When he didn't respond, she took his hand, pressing against their bond. Finally he answered, though he refused to meet her gaze.

 _Yes, a part of me does, for part of me wants to whisk you as far away from the borders of Mordor as I can_. To his credit he didn't flinch when her alarm passed through their bond.

 _You want to send me away_. The pain he felt flowing from her made his heart ache, and his gaze flew around to her.

"No. That I would not do. I made you a promise. I would only ask you to go if I were to go with you." Relief coursed through her. "I need to know you are safe, Aeslin. That is all that matters to me." She leaned against him, her eyes closing briefly when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

 _Good_ , was the only response he got.

* * *

Their waiting was ended on a warm autumn day, several years after Arwen's departure from the Golden Wood. Despite her friend's absence, Aeslin continued to spend time with the Lady and her husband, often sitting with them for many pleasant hours, especially when Haldir was on the Borders. The Lady's composed and gracious manner and Celeborn's gentle presence never failed to calm Aeslin when she worried for her husband. So it was that she was sitting with the couple when news came.

Galadriel was sewing in the sunlight that streamed into her sitting room while Aeslin read aloud. They were disturbed, though, when Elladan and Elrohir were announced mere seconds before the brothers came through the door themselves.

Celeborn and Aeslin were surprised by their sudden appearance, but The Lady was not. She merely looked up at them in her usual mild but concerned look. Celeborn stood, a frown forming on his face, but before he could ask what was happening, Elrohir spoke, answering their unspoken questions.

"The One Ring has been found, Grandmother, Grandfather. It is in Rivendell as we speak." A pregnant silence followed his words. Aeslin, nearly numb with disbelief, made to stand and leave in order to give the Lord and Lady privacy with their grandsons. One quick glance from the Lady stopped her in her tracks.

"You are certain?" Celeborn was just as bewildered as Aeslin. "The Ring was lost several millennia ago." Elrohir nodded before answering.

"It was in the Shire, with a Halfling named Baggins. It would seem before that it was under the Misty Mountains. Beyond that we do not know."

"Baggins?" All eyes turned to Aeslin. She hadn't intended to speak, but the familiarity of the name had startled her.

"You know of this hobbit?" Elladan asked, concern in his eyes. Aeslin nodded tentatively.

"Yes, I believe so. When I was in Mirkwood, my brother told me of the happenings surrounding the fall of the Dragon Smaug of the Lonely Mountain and the Battle of the Five Armies. There was a hobbit, among the dwarves that passed through Mirkwood, a master thief. He helped them escape, and returned after the battle with Mithrandir. His name was Baggins; Bilbo, now named Elf-friend by my father, if I remember correctly, for in addition to doing my Father a great service, he found the halfling's spirit and audacity amusing."

"Indeed, we remember that party from when they passed through Rivendell." Elrohir confirmed wryly, seeming like he was uncertain if the memory amused him or not. "You are right, there was a Halfling named Baggins with them. More recently still, that hobbit has come to reside in Rivendell. But it was a different hobbit who bore the Ring to Imladris, one Frodo Baggins, Bilbo's nephew," the dark-haired twin clarified. They all fell silent again. Galadriel had turned thoughtful as they spoke, her gaze far away.

"What is to become of the Ring now?" came Celeborn's response. Elladan was the one to answer this time, his tone reserved.

"A Fellowship of Nine has been formed to bring the Ring to Mordor, to destroy it. They will depart Rivendell very soon if they haven't already."

"That is a great risk," the Lord of Lorien sighed.

"But one that must be taken." Celeborn turned to look at his wife as she spoke. "The hope of Middle Earth now lies in the hands of a hobbit. The fate of this world is in the balance." Elladan nodded gravely confirming his grandmother's quiet words.

"Yes, Frodo volunteered to bear the Ring."

"A hobbit? What chance does a hobbit have against the great evil of the Ring, of Mordor?" Galadriel smiled gently at Aeslin's exclamation, but for once it did not allay the fear growing in Aeslin's heart.

"Have faith, young one. Hobbits may be a small race, but there is strength in their hearts that has yet to be tested." She turned back to her grandsons. "What path do they take?" The brother's exchanged a glance. Elrohir frowned, but eventually answered.

"We believe Mithrandir plans on leading them south along the Misty Mountains, before turning east to Mordor by way of the Gap of Rohan."

A faint frown marred Galadriel's face, "Gandalf the Gray leads them?"

"Yes. Also among their number are three more hobbits, a dwarf, two men, and an elf." Aeslin grew wary when the brothers avoided her gaze.

"Who is the elf?" she asked quietly. Before they even answered, she could feel the unease grow within her heart.

"Legolas of the Woodland Realm." Aeslin felt numb. "I am sorry, Aeslin." Through her bond, she could feel Haldir questioning what was wrong, but she could not bring herself to answer. All she could do was draw on his reassuring presence, comforted by the contact alone. After a while Celeborn sighed.

"There is little then to do but wait. What will pass will come to pass."

* * *

Wait they did, anxious for news of the Fellowship. At Celeborn's request, news of the Quest of the Ring was to be kept within the knowledge of only those there to hear it. Elladan and Elrohir departed the next morning, anxious to return home. Again, they offered to bring Aeslin with them to Rivendell, concerned as they were for the safety of their littlest sister. It was a testament to the foreboding Aeslin felt growing in her heart that she nearly agreed, but her instincts to stay in Lorien overrode the feeling, and she had to refuse. Visibly disappointed, the Brothers of Rivendell took their leave, pausing only to bid their family goodbye. Upon receiving the blessings of the Lord and Lady of Lorien, they left, leaving Aeslin to wonder at just what lay before them. Just what was the future to hold?

That, though, was before them soon enough.


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One quick note:
> 
> *This means the speaker is speaking in the common tongue.*
> 
> "Quotation marks indicate elvish."

**Reunions and Interludes**

The Border was quiet; almost too quiet. Haldir, however, didn't complain. The threat of attack was as high as it had ever been thanks to the darkness now spreading from Mordor, so any time when calm reigned over the borders under his watch was a boon to him. Nevertheless, he was uneasy. Aeslin was worried, and wasn't filling him in completely when he asked. Over the last few weeks, her anxiety had been growing, but having been on the border for the last few months, he hadn't had a chance to speak with her face to face. They could communicate easily through their bond, but recently she had become reserved in her contact with him, sharing little more than emotions and reassurances that she was, in fact, all right.

All he did know, was that her change in demeanour had come around the same time as the Rivendell brothers came flying into Lorien, bearing news for the Lord and Lady, only to leave again the next day. They had not revealed anything of their purpose to the wardens, as Haldir found out from Orophin. The Marchwarden had been on a different section of the border when they passed through, missing them completely. Whatever news they bore, though, they had passed it along. Almost immediately following the Rivendell Twins' arrival in the Golden Wood, orders had come from Celeborn alerting them to be extra vigilant, and to be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Combined with Aeslin's sudden wariness, Haldir suspected that, whatever their message had been, it had everything to do with the darkness spreading around them.

As the bright afternoon shifted into a golden evening, Haldir was summoned by one of his border-guards to the northwest edge of the Wood. Gathering several of his men, they descended from their flets to the forest floor, following the movements of eight intruders entering the domain of the Lady. It was with a note of contempt that he noticed a dwarf among them, but curiosity there was as well, for among their number were four he presumed to be either children or Halflings, as well as an elf.

Swiftly and silently, twenty of his border-guards surrounded them, catching them all off-guard, the dwarf especially, Haldir noted with amusement. In fact, the only one to even respond in a decent amount of time was the elf, having drawn his own bow the instant the border-guards appeared. He was severely outnumbered though.

*The dwarf breathes so loud we could've shot him in the dark,* Haldir couldn't help but say as he approached the apparent leader of the group. The common tongue felt odd on his lips, having had little occasion to use it in a great many years. However, with a traditional elven gesture of respect, the man bowed his head, answering him in perfect elvish.

"Haldir of Lorien. We come here for help. We need your protection." Haldir frowned, his usually perfect mask of indifference forgotten. He surveyed the group once again, this time taking notice of the elf, as his back was no longer turned to the Marchwarden. He was astonished to meet the calculating gaze of Legolas, brother to his wife. Turning to Rumil, who stood at his side, he nodded. One by one, his men lowered their bows.

*You will come with us.*

By the time they reached the flets and had ferried each of the guests up into the trees, night had fallen. As he dismissed his men, sending them back to their posts, he turned back to the diverse group. It had taken him a moment, but eventually he recognized the man who had asked for his help, sensing the same Dúnedain blood he had seen once in Rivendell. It had been a long time though. Indeed, Aragorn had been a child then. He turned to Legolas first, reverting back to his natural tongue, greeting him formally.

"Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduil." Legolas nodded in acceptance.

"Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lorien." The Marchwarden turned next to the Ranger, who stood a few feet away among the rest of his companions.

"Aragorn of Dúnedain, you are known to us." A chuckle nearly escaped Haldir at the flicker of surprise that crossed Aragorn's features. He had not been expecting that. The Ranger did not let it distract him though, bobbing his head in a thanks of his own. Behind him, though, the dwarf spoke, his gruff voice showing naught but annoyance.

*So much for the legendary courtesy of the elves; speak words we can all understand.* Switching back to the common tongue, Haldir made no effort to disguise the disdain in his own voice as he answered.

*We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days.* The dwarf stiffened at the specifically punctuated final two words before making an equally derisive comment of his own.

*And you know what this dwarf says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!* Haldir's eyes widened slightly as anger flashed through him, his limited knowledge of the dwarven tongue enough to understand that phrase. Closing his eyes briefly as his objectionable companion spoke, a look of aggravation passed over Aragorn's features. When the dwarf had finished, Aragorn turned, leveling him with an irritated glare and sharp gesture.

*That was not so courteous.* Haldir allowed his own aggravation to show on his face as he leveled the dwarf and the Ranger with one final glance before continuing on to survey the others. The hobbits looked frightened and exhausted, especially the dark-haired one, who stood away from the others, looking as though he was trying to stay out of sight behind his companions.

As his eyes fell on that last hobbit, Haldir was struck with the presence of a great roiling shadow that encompassed the small figure. All at once a primeval fear overtook him, causing his grip to tighten on the long hilt of his sword; the urge exploded within him to keep this evil away from everything he held dear, to keep it far from Aeslin, so much so that it blocked his reason. Almost without hesitation he spoke, astonished in hindsight that his voice betrayed none of the turmoil in his mind as he spoke, instead remaining calm and measured.

*You bring great evil with you,* his gaze flew back to Aragorn, some of his unease bleeding into his voice, making him sound harsh. *You can go no further.* Turning in a blink, he began to walk away, fighting the urge to run or to throw the hobbit and the evil he carried from the Wood. Almost immediately, Aragorn was close behind him, begging him to stop, to reconsider. In the back of his mind, he could feel Aeslin reacting to his sudden change of emotion, her distress fueling his agitation. Finally, Haldir did stop, turning to face the Ranger. He could not control his distaste anymore, sickened as he was by the darkness carried by the halfling. Aragorn recoiled, visibly flinching at the expression in the Marchwarden's eyes, but he was not deterred.

"We need your protection. The road is fell!"

"That is not my concern," Haldir all but hissed back, unmoved by the pleading tone in Aragorn's voice, "What the Halfling carries is a threat. You will stay here."

"I wish we may come with you." The ranger's soothing tone grew more shadowed with desperation with each new entreaty, though his control was remarkable. But Haldir was not moved, somehow managing to maintain his composure, for the most part.

"That I will not allow. I am charged with the protection of these borders."

"Please, understand, we need your support!"

"I will not endanger Lorien needlessly." Aragorn was now visibly struggling to keep his temper in check, but he continued to push the Marchwarden.

"Haldir—"

"I will not endanger mine own." It was now that the fear growing in Haldir's heart came to the fore, startling Aragorn. Legolas also looked up, Haldir's voice having risen ever so slightly with his last statement. Aragorn passed a brief look to his elven companion before turning back to Haldir, somewhat sobered by the vehement outburst.

"We are on a mission to save yours, ours, all on this Middle Earth." The earnest expression on the Rangers face gave Haldir cause to pause, turning his gaze from Aragorn. Something of this whole situation made the protective instincts in him flare uncontrollably, making him almost dangerously irrational. They were in genuine need of help, adding to the conflicting storm of his thoughts; obviously none were servants of the enemy. "The road is very dangerous," the Ranger all but whispered, pleading in his voice.

 _All will be well, Haldir. Bring them before me, for I desire to meet with them_. The Lady's voice echoed through his mind, her soothing tone a balm to his anxiety, though it was unable to calm him completely. Though every fibre of his being screamed to send them away, Celeborn, and now the Lady, had made it clear to bring any visitors before them. Clenching his jaw, he consciously had to relax his grip on the long hilt of his sword, earning an encouraged glance from Aragorn. After several deep breaths, Haldir raised his gaze to meet the Rangers before stepping to stand before the Fellowship, fixing his stare on the Halfling who carried the threat.

*You will follow me.*

* * *

It was directly to the Lord and Lady that the Marchwarden led the Fellowship, taking them through the forest to the heart of Caras Galadhon. He could almost feel the excitement in the Mirkwood elf at his side, every now and then exchanging a brief look of approval with Legolas. That Woodland Prince had never stepped foot below Lorien's green and golden canopy was abundantly clear. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the Fellowship was similarly struck with admiration and wonder at the sight of the Golden Wood and the marvel that was the City of Trees.

Delivering them to the heart of the Lord and Lady's flet, Haldir stood discreetly off to the side as they gathered at the base of the stairs. A moment later Celeborn and Galadriel descended, drawing further awe from those looking on.

Most of what passed was a blur for Haldir, troubled as he was by the danger lurking in the dark-haired hobbit's possession. He could feel Aeslin was close, and he felt her disquiet at his unease. He could tell she longed to speak with him, while he was wishing he could take her as far away from the evil not ten feet from him as he possibly could.

News that Gandalf the Gray had fallen in Moria brought some of Haldir's attention back to the scene before him, as did the Lady's words of comfort to the dwarf. Indeed, Haldir thought with worry, love does indeed mingle with grief; something he fervently prayed he would never have to endure. The very idea of something befalling his brothers or their families was troubling, but that something could happen to his Aeslin—his heart verged on shattering at the mere thought of losing her.

As Galadriel fell silent after bidding the Fellowship to rest at ease, Haldir was faced with the task of leading the group back down to the forest floor where, he presumed, space was being prepared for them to take their respite.

* * *

Aeslin listened to the exchange from just out of sight of the visitors, unable to see them just as they were unable to see her. She could feel the turmoil gnawing at her husband, but was unable to discern what it was that troubled him. So concerned was she with reaching out to Haldir, that she missed most of the conversation below, her brother's voice the only thing breaking even momentarily through her distracted state. It was only when Galadriel and Celeborn re-ascended the stairs that she was ultimately broken from her concentration. Galadriel placed a gentle hand on Aeslin's cheek, smiling sadly. One thing that Aeslin had caught from the meeting was the loss of the wizard Gandalf. She had only met him a handful of times, first when she was small herself in Mirkwood, once in Imladris and later among the trees of Lorien, but she remembered every encounter fondly. She knew, though, that the Lord and Lady had been close to the Wizard.

"I am sorry, My Lady. The loss of Mithrandir is a bitter one." Galadriel's face betrayed her sorrow for a moment, her clear blue eyes distant.

"Yes, but what is done is done. Yet, I sense there is still a path laid before Gandalf. Whether he finds his way is still shrouded from me." Her gaze came back to the healer. "You have your own concerns, Aeslin. Go down to the forest floor, there are those there who need your care." Nodding in acquiescence, Aeslin watched as the Lord and Lady of Lorien moved off before taking her own leave.

The healer took her time in descending from the Lord and Lady's flet, pausing by the one she shared with Haldir only to find he hadn't yet returned. She lingered for a few moments, but when he didn't appear, she continued on, following the line of elves bringing supplies down to the visitors. The last of them were departing as she came upon the Fellowship, many of whom had wasted no time in settling. For a long time she could do nothing but watch them from afar, cut as she was by their expressions of grief. Around her, a lament to the fallen wizard wove and flowed on the night breeze, nearly bringing tears to her eyes with the grief held therein.

She watched as one of the hobbits stood and attempted to add to the ode in his own humble way, only to sit in despair as his words did nothing to convey what was in his heart. The dwarf had already begun to doze, only to be woken by a sharp swat from the man next to him. After another moment that man stood, moving to join another man who looked devastated as he sat alone. It was then that she caught sight of her brother, returning to his companions with a small ewer of water in his hands. Relief coursed through her and without hesitation she sprang forward, abandoning her silent watch.

Despite his grief, Legolas' eyes lit up at the sight of her, her name coming to his lips as the ewer fell from his hands, catching the attention of most of the Fellowship as the water therein splashed out in a melodious cascade.

With a gasp she embraced him, her arms wrapped tight about him as she uttered a prayer in thanks. He embraced her back with equal fervor. After a moment she pulled back, her hands still gripping his tunic as if afraid he would disappear should she let go.

"You are safe. You are here. I have been so worried." Legolas smiled faintly, the sadness never quite gone from his eyes; something Aeslin didn't fail to notice. "I am so sorry, dear brother. I know you knew him well."

"I did, and his death could not have come at a worse time. Aeslin, I am so glad to see you."

"And I you. You are well?" He nodded.

"As well as can be expected. What of you? I have heard nothing of you since you last departed Mirkwood." Aeslin opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted.

"Aeslin?" Their attention was caught with the approach of one of the men, an expression of bewilderment on his vaguely familiar features. Around his neck was the Evenstar, a clue to his identity alone as Aeslin had never seen the sister of her heart without it. But it was his eyes that triggered her memory more than anything. She pulled away from her brother, looking to the man in consideration as she approached him. When she finally stood before him, she smiled, reaching up to gently tug a strand of hair that hung next to his face.

"Estel? I must admit I am surprised you remember me," Aeslin said with a smile. Aragorn laughed quietly in disbelief, taking her hands in his after mimicking her movement, giving a lock of her own hair a gentle tug.

"I could not forget one such as you. It has been too long," he answered with genuine gladness. Aeslin laughed herself.

"Indeed, you certainly have grown since I last saw you." Legolas came to stand beside them, a look of curiosity on his face as their companions looked on.

"You know each other." Aeslin turned to Legolas, a smile still on her face.

"Yes, I met Aragorn in Rivendell, many, many years ago, my dear brother, when he was still a small child." She turned back to the Ranger, registering with amusement the look of astonishment on his face when she named Legolas kin. "I became very fond of you."

"You are his sister?" Aragorn asked.

"Indeed," the Mirkwood Prince said wryly. With a smile of pride Legolas wrapped an arm around Aeslin's shoulders.

"I have known you how long before learning this?" Aragorn grinned impishly, causing Aeslin to roll her eyes. Before they could continue with their reunion, though, they were interrupted.

*Who is this?* The second man had approached while the three had been speaking. Turning, Aragorn switched to the common tongue, proceeding to introduce his companions before returning to Aeslin.

*This is Aeslin of,* he paused for a moment, looking to her quizzically. She picked up where he left off.

*Of Lorien.*

*Of Lorien,* he continued with an abashed smile. *I have known her for a very long time, as she was once a student of Lord Elrond in Rivendell.*

*And she is my little sister,* finished Legolas with a hint of teasing in his voice. Aeslin sighed, mock exasperation colouring the sound.

*Really?* Came the keen voice of the youngest of the hobbits, all of whom had come to gather around them.

*Who knew our elvish princeling had a sister,* came the gruff voice of the dwarf. Aeslin nearly frowned, but she sensed nothing but camaraderie in his voice. Legolas frowned, aiming a light swat at the dwarf's shoulder. Aeslin laughed quietly as she surveyed the faces looking to her in curiosity.

*Yes, and who knew—* her voice trailed off and her smile faded as her eyes fell upon the dark-haired Hobbit lingering behind the rest. Without thinking, she began to retreat closer to Legolas, pressing against him as she flinched away from the great well of darkness that began to pervade her senses. She had known of the Fellowship's task, so she had known what was carried in their midst, but nothing could have prepared her for what she felt in the presence of the One Ring. The others, Legolas especially, looked to her in concern, her brother tightening his hold on her as she began to tremble. Frodo met her gaze, knowing instinctively exactly what brought about the change in her.

"Never have I felt such evil; not in Mirkwood, nor the mountains, nor anywhere I have ever been." Her voice was breathless, and her already pale skin grew paler still as her very strength seemed sapped from her body. Alarm coursed through Legolas, but in an instant she had returned to normal, though she was much more reserved than she had been only a few moments before. Breaking her gaze from the dark-haired hobbit, she looked up reassuringly to her brother, before surveying the rest of the Fellowship again. It was then that she noticed evidence of injury on some of them.

*You have seen battle, recently.* Though still tremulous, Aeslin's voice had adopted the tone she used when her Healer's instincts took over. Before any could answer she continued, gesturing around her. *Please, sit, and let me look to your wounds.*

With an efficiency bred out of centuries of practice, she quickly dealt with the thankfully minor wounds that had befallen the members of the Fellowship while in Moria. The three other hobbits had only a few cuts and bruises between them, while Gimli was practically unscathed but for a fragment of shrapnel that had flown deep into his forearm; something she extracted easily, receiving an almost bashful declaration of gratitude from the recalcitrant dwarf. Legolas was also essentially unharmed while Aragorn and Boromir had their own fair share of scrapes and cuts, the latter also having a nasty gash on the back of his head from being thrown into an outcropping of stone. Frodo was the last she tended to, drawing the anxious gazes of those who knew her already. She hesitated a moment before tending the bruised and even cracked ribs he sustained when a cave troll had tried to impale him. The only other pause in her ministrations came when she discovered the wound he sustained on Amon Sûl. The wound baffled her, but Frodo seemed unaffected, covering the scar quickly before explaining what Elrond had told him as he was recovering in Rivendell. Sensing his hesitation in regard to the wound, Aeslin left it alone, though the healer in her was curious to examine it further.

As she worked, the entirety of their tale had been related to her by Merry and Pippin, earning suitable gasps and other responses at all the right times while the others supplied missed details here and there.

By the time she was done, the Fellowship was far better off than when they arrived. Aeslin's gentle hands and quiet laugh put them all at ease, bringing a measure of cheer back into their hearts. Though their sorrow was not forgotten in the slightest, the sting had been dulled enough that they were able to stem the flow of their grief, giving them a chance at rest. When she was finished she stood, pleasantly tired from her exertions.

After bidding them a good night, she turned to leave them, pausing only to embrace her brother.

"Thank you, Aeslin. Your presence has been naught but a boon to us." The sorrow had begun to creep back into her brother's eyes. She laid a kiss on his cheek.

"I tended to their wounds, that was all." He shook his head, looking down on her face with a deep look of consideration.

"No, you did far more than that. They will all rest soundly tonight because of you. You helped with the wounds in our hearts as well."

"Just as I have said," she reiterated. With a final goodnight, she departed, leaving the Fellowship to their respite.

* * *

While Aeslin soothed the ragged psyches of the Fellowship, Haldir had wandered Caras Galadhon. Periodically he would make his way past the Fellowship's clearing, reassuring himself that Aeslin was indeed all right, but mostly he took the opportunity to be alone with his thoughts.

It was late when he returned to their flet, but he still made it back before Aeslin. Soon enough though, she returned to find him standing in their bedchamber, looking out on the Wood with only the moonlight to illuminate him. He stood deep in thought, his arms crossed in front of him. Making her way about the room, she lit the candles, and soon the chamber was bathed in a warm glow. It was then that she came to stand behind her husband, placing her hands on his shoulders and laying her head against his back.

"What troubles you?" The sounds of the Wood below them were the only things that punctuated the quiet around them.

"I am not entirely sure, but you have felt the darkness that now rests in the bounds of our realm." Aeslin was concerned by the trepidation in Haldir's voice.

"I have. The hobbit called Frodo carries the Ring of Power. I have not felt its like in all my life, short as it has been this far." Haldir took a deep breath, one of his hands lifting to cover hers where it rested on his upper arm.

"Neither have I. It troubles me greatly, Aeslin. The instant I felt it, I wanted nothing more than to take you and flee; to take you far from the threat carried by the Halfling. Never have I felt so strongly about protecting that which I love." The healer closed her eyes briefly before gently tugging him around to face her.

"You do not need to fear for me, my love. Soon enough this bane will be gone from our lands, and you will have little more to fear from it." Haldir frowned, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Yes, it will be gone, but then the danger of it falling into the hands of its master will grow." Aeslin reached up, forcing him to look at her.

"We have no control over that." She smiled faintly. "You cannot carry all the woes of this world on your shoulders. It would destroy you. You told me that once, and now I tell you. I can feel your worry, Haldir. Please don't let it overcome you." She leaned into him, laying her head against his chest, listening to his reassuring heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around her, enclosing her against him.

"I cannot help but worry, Aeslin. This darkness that grows in Middle Earth can only lead to more shadow. I worry what it will mean for our race." She pulled back, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair before pulling him down for a kiss.

"Forget all that. Be here, with me. No good will come of dwelling on what cannot be changed. We are under the protection of the Lady. Nothing will reach us here."

"I am no longer wholly convinced of that."


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One quick note:
> 
> *This means the speaker is speaking in the common tongue.*
> 
> "Quotation marks indicate elvish."

**Dawn Brings Many Things**

Dawn had just barely breached the horizon on the day the Fellowship was set to depart the Golden Wood and continue on the road to Mordor. Parties of elves followed the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim to the banks of the Silverlode where they were to farewell the troupe that carried with them the hopes of Middle Earth. Aeslin managed to insert herself into the procession of supplies, eager to wish the Fellowship well. She had come to know them well during her initial tending of them and in the days that followed.

As it was, she stood next to Haldir when Celeborn had the Fellowship outfitted with Lorien cloaks, fastening the mallorn-leaf pin with care as she stood before a stoic-looking Boromir. The Gondorian met her eyes with hesitation, his thanks barely audible when he spoke. Giving him a reassuring smile, she stepped back, allowing Galadriel to preside over the giving of gifts to the Fellowship. She smiled widely when her brother received a Galadhrim bow, something he had told her he desired long before she had ever left Mirkwood, and a desire she had once told the Lady of during one of their many quiet afternoons in each other's company.

After that, she joined in the loading of the boats the Fellowship were to take. She was distracted, though, by the hobbit named Sam, who was presiding over the packing of his own bags with an almost jealous interest. Gathering up several packets of Lembas-bread she made her way over to him. He looked up, startled as she knelt down beside him, handing over the leaf-bound bundles.

*Thank-you, Milady,* he said bashfully, carefully tucking them away.

*Take this as well, Master Gamgee.* From inside the little purse she had dangling from her belt, she drew out a small, golden blossom. *This is elanor, and it blooms only in Lorien and across the sea. On the road ahead of you there is likely to be little in the way of beauty. Take this,* she pressed the slender stem into his hand, *and let your gardener's heart be eased whenever you look upon it. It will not wither, I have made sure of that.* The hobbit sniffed, holding the flower close as he looked up at the elf in front of him.

*Why do you give this to me,* he whispered. Aeslin smiled, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. In the short time she had known Sam, she had seen the bond of friendship that extended between him and Frodo and the tremendous loyalty and gentleness that filled the gardener.

*Your road is dark, and my heart tells me that much will depend on your strength of spirit. You are stronger than you think, I believe. Let this little bloom remind you of that.* Standing, she turned, returning to the line of elves packing the boats, but not before she saw the hobbit tuck the delicate blossom away with great reverence next to his heart.

Before long the boats were loaded and the travelers were ready to depart. Aeslin approached Legolas without hesitation for one last embrace, straightening his cloak with care as she pulled away.

"You had better come back from this fool's errand." Legolas smiled, brushing a strand of her white-blonde hair away from her face.

"Have I ever broken a promise to you, dear one? I will see you again, of that I have no doubt." There was a shadow in his eyes that worried Aeslin, but she wanted nothing more than to believe her brother's words so she said nothing of it. Leaving a kiss of parting on her cheek, he turned, climbing gracefully into the boat he was to share with the dwarf. Aeslin turned when she felt Aragorn approach behind her. She leveled him with a solemn glance.

"Keep him safe, Estel. My brother means the world to me." Aragorn sketched a small bow, meeting her gaze with a serious one of his own.

"Of course, Milady. I will try to make sure he doesn't do anything too heroic." They both laughed quietly before Aeslin grew serious again.

"Don't you do anything too heroic either," her gaze fell to the Evenstar lying against his collarbone, her fingers reaching out to touch the jewel, "It would break her heart were you not to return." A sad look came over Aragorn's face, drawing a look of concern from the healer.

"She is to take the ship into the West, as she should. She will not be there when I return." Aeslin shook her head slowly in disagreement.

"Not if I know the sister of my heart. Arwen would not leave you like that. Not after giving you her promise."

"Can you be so sure?" There was an unconscious vulnerability begging for assurance within his words that pressed like a weight on Aeslin. She wasn't sure, but she lifted her chin anyway, staring Aragorn in the eyes with a confidence she wasn't sure she possessed.

"I am. She is willing to give up the life of our race for you. Do not abandon hope, or your love for her." With a reassuring smile, she reached up, tugging at a lock of his hair the way she had when he was a child. Aragorn laughed, though his eyes remained preoccupied. Reaching up, he did the same to her, mimicking the actions of his toddler self many years before. With a final soft word of farewell, she placed a kiss of parting on his cheek just as she had with her brother, and, like Legolas, Aragorn turned and climbed into the boat that waited for him.

After a few short words among the companions, the three Lorien boats carrying the Fellowship pushed off into the main flow of the river. Haldir came to stand behind Aeslin, watching them go with the same hopeful, yet reserved expression that his wife and every other elf watching possessed.

* * *

That evening, Aeslin sat in the now abandoned area the Fellowship had vacated. She was quiet and thoughtful, dwelling on the events of the day. Shortly after the departure of the eight companions, Haldir too had left, returning to the borders in the mid-afternoon. Before that Galadriel and Celeborn had withdrawn, the Lady in particular looking more distant than usual.

She was not so troubled that she was oblivious, though. Eventually she looked up to see Lostariel approaching her. Without a word, Aeslin shifted, making room for the older elf to sit beside her in the hollow the healer occupied. It was a long while before any of them spoke.

"It is said that the travelers carried with them the doom of us all; the One Ring." Lostariel looked to Aeslin, searching for confirmation with frightened eyes. Aeslin did not respond, staring still at the fountain she had been watching as she thought. "Is it true, Aeslin? You are close with the Lady, and it is said that your brother numbers among the travelers. What do you know?" Aeslin sighed, turning her gaze to her friend.

"I cannot say, Lostariel, truly. But know that our hope lies in the Fellowship that departed our shores. We must have faith that they will prevail in their quest." She smiled faintly, her eyes pleading Lostariel to understand. Though the older elf was not happy with the answer, she did not press, instead turning to survey the clearing before them. Aeslin sighed. After a few long, silent moments, Lostariel's soft voice broke the silence.

"It is difficult to live in such times. I long for the days when what happened beyond Lorien had little bearing on our lives herein." There was no mistaking the wistfulness in Lostariel's voice. Reaching out, Aeslin took her hand, squeezing it give what little comfort she could offer, slight as it was.

"I fear those days are gone," Aeslin said quietly. A sad look came over Lostariel's face.

"I suppose you are right."

* * *

Aeslin was to get little rest, it seemed, for as dawn broke the next day, she was summoned to attend the Lady. Awake in an instant, she was out of her flet in minutes. When she reached the Lord and Lady's set of Flets, she was met by Celeborn, who drew her aside into one of the chambers set aside for close guests of the Lady. Without a word he directed her towards the bedroom.

As she entered, she saw Galadriel sitting beside a figure lying prone on the great bed. Sensing the healer's presence, the Lady turned, standing and beckoning her closer. Approaching the bed, Aeslin got her first look at the motionless figure. Lying amid the white sheets was the wizard Gandalf, looking gaunt and lifeless. He did not even seem to breathe he was so still. Aeslin looked to the Lady, astonished beyond words.

"I need you to examine him, Aeslin. He has yet to wake, and he has been through much." Nodding in understanding, Aeslin sat next to the still form of the wizard, placing her hand on his brow as she began reciting the invocations and incantations of her craft. Galadriel and Celeborn stood by, watching as the Healer worked over the wizard, striving to discern his condition and encourage him to wake.

Eventually she ceased, turning to face the Lord and Lady.

"His body is hale enough, though weak, and what injury he had is now healed. His will is strong, though...changed. He will wake in time, likely very soon." She looked back to the wizard, who still had yet to wake or even stir under her ministrations. He was different than she remembered. "Where did he come from? I thought he was dead." She turned back to the Lady, who still watched the wizard in concern.

"Gwaihir, Lord of the Eagles, found him amid the peaks of the Misty Mountains and brought him here at my request. Gandalf yet has a purpose, I did not think it likely he had left us for good."

"What will happen when he wakes?"

"That is for him to decide. Unless I am mistaken he is no longer Gandalf the Gray as we knew him. Yes, he is very much changed indeed." Galadriel became pensive as she spoke, ultimately falling silent. Celeborn looked to his wife in concern, a thoughtful expression coming to his face as well. Aeslin turned her gaze back to the wizard before standing.

"Changed to what?" As if listening, the form on the bed began to stir. They all turned back to him, Galadriel strode forward, taking back her seat on the edge of the bed. After a moment, a pair of piercing blue eyes opened on the wise and familiar face. Aeslin retreated to stand back near the door, giving the Lord and Lady a measure of privacy with their old friend.

At first, the wizard did not speak, and barely moved, listening instead to the quiet words of the Lady. Eventually though, he did speak and as the day passed his story came out. The Balrog, defeated by Gandalf, had also nearly destroyed the wizard. But eventually he came back to himself, reaching out until he brushed the mind of Galadriel, who knew what had befallen him and reached out to help. After that, he had slipped out of consciousness, not stirring until he woke in their midst.

The Lady was also right in that Gandalf was changed. No longer the Gray pilgrim, he was now to be known as Gandalf the White.

Another day passed after the day of his waking, and after one final examination from Aeslin, it was decided that he had recovered enough from his ordeal to be on his way.

* * *

So it was that at yet another dawn Aeslin found herself standing to bid farewell, this time to Gandalf. There was little ceremony this time. Gandalf, clad head to toe in white, as befitting his new epithet, bid a fond farewell to Galadriel and Celeborn.

Before that, though, he had paused by Aeslin, leaning on his staff as she bowed her head in respect. He smiled, looking at the healer with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I owe you thanks, my dear Healer, for tending me during my—somnolence." Aeslin smile, nodding her head briefly again.

"It was my duty, My Lord, though I truly did very little." He chuckled.

"That may be, but nevertheless, I thank you. You are gifted, Aeslin of Lorien, and you are strong. Do not forget that in the days to come." A faint frown threatened to appear on Aeslin's face, but she suppressed the urge, giving the wizard a smile before he moved on.

"Mithrandir," she hesitated as he turned back to look at her, both uncertain if the name was still appropriate and if she was overstepping in asking the question she wished. "Forgive me, but do you go to meet the rest of the Fellowship?" He nodded, a thoughtful look coming over his features.

"After a time, yes. I do think I will see them again." Aeslin nodded, unsure what she meant to ask in the first place. However, a knowing smile came to Gandalf's face.

"You worry for your brother, and your friends."

"Yes." Her voice was quiet, but he still heard her. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I will not say do not worry, for there is much to worry about in these times. But have faith, my dear healer. Your friends are strong, and your brother possibly the most skilled marksman across Middle Earth. I do not doubt that they will live to see the end of this darkness." Then he moved on to bid the Lord and Lady of Lorien farewell before taking his leave of the City of Trees.

* * *

Unease began to seep into Aeslin's heart as the days passed. Never before had she been so aware of the passage of time. There had been times when years had gone by in what seemed to be the span of days; now, days seemed to endure for years. She felt Haldir's growing concern on the borders as skirmishes with Orcs grew more frequent. She felt his worry at news pouring in from beyond their lands, of devastating raids across the lands of Rohan and Gondor alike, and the growing power of the traitorous Saruman in Isengard and Sauron in Mordor.

Yet no news came of the Fellowship, or their progress. While to some extent that was comforting, with the quest dependent on being shrouded in secrecy, it was also nerve-wracking to those who waited on news.

When news did come, it came from Rohan of all places. It was early one morning when Haldir returned from the border, surprising Aeslin since he was not due back so early from his rotation. When she questioned him, his face took on the grim cast he usually reserved for others, but never for her.

"The Lady has called me and a handful of others from the border. It would seem there is news from Rohan." Aeslin frowned, unsure why he was telling her until he continued. "Part of the Fellowship is there, including your brother." She didn't hesitate to follow him to the Lord and Lady's flet, where several other elves already waited.

When Celeborn and Galadriel appeared, their faces were more solemn than usual. Celeborn was the first to speak.

"Things go ill with the Kingdom of Rohan. Isengard has been emptied and now marches on Théoden's people in Helm's Deep. Should the fortress fall, the world of men will soon follow. We have conferred with Lord Elrond and King Thranduil and have agreed that the ancient treaties with the King of Gondor still hold true, and that our support is necessary for men's survival. Already a combined contingent of volunteers that can be spared is en route from Rivendell and Mirkwood, ready for battle. They ask that we join them." Aeslin's heart began to pound as Celeborn's eyes fell on her and Haldir.

"The Fellowship of the Ring has parted ways, and three of their number are even now preparing to defend Rohan. As the Heir of Elendil, Aragorn, son of Arathorn is owed our aid, and Legolas of the Woodland realm also fights among the men of Théoden. We cannot let them stand alone." Galadriel's voice was grave as her eyes too came to rest on Haldir. Aeslin fought to keep her expression blank as her husband straightened under scrutiny.

"We do not ask this lightly, Haldir, but it has been requested that you join them. Your leadership, experience and skill are well known, and you know the tongues of men, where many of the others do not." Haldir did not speak for many moments, while Celeborn and Galadriel continued to speak, directing instruction to the others around them. Aeslin was barely listening, lost as she was in her own thoughts.

"Aeslin," she was brought back by the sound of Galadriel's voice. Looking up, she met the concerned gaze of the Lady. After a moment the Queen of the Golden Wood continued.

"It has also been requested that a group of Healers from our lands follow to aid in the aftermath, whatever that may be. As one of our strongest healers and one of the most learned in the treatment of men in addition to elven-kind, you have been considered as the best candidate to lead this group. Would you accept this charge?" Struck dumb by this turn of events, Aeslin nodded, unable to speak lest she should say something she regretted.

A short while later, the gathering was dismissed and, without a word, Aeslin slipped from the room before anyone else, not even waiting for Haldir to join her. In moments she was back in their flet, pacing through the handful of rooms in agitation. It was not long after that Haldir rushed into the flet himself, his thoughts shielded from showing on his face. Aeslin didn't even turn to face him.

"Did you accept?" When he didn't answer, she stopped, turning to face him. "Did you?" He sighed, his resignation to the mission apparent on his face.

"Not yet." Aeslin clenched her jaw, resuming her pacing. "There is no one else, Aeslin."

"There has to be," she whispered, almost too quiet for him to hear.

"I wish that were so, Aeslin. Truly I do. But this has to be done." She stopped again before all but flying to his side, her pale eyes boring into his. He reached out to touch her, but she flinched away.

"They cannot ask you to do this, Haldir. They just can't. It is suicide."

"We do not know that. You cannot know that for sure."

"But I feel it in my heart, and it terrifies me. I can't lose you." She was close to shedding frustrated tears, but she held them back. This time, when he reached out to her, she let him take her hands, bringing them to lie against his chest.

"I have every intention of returning, Aeslin."

"That doesn't mean you will." She held his gaze, letting her anguish pour through their bond. She could feel him shudder at the blending of their emotions, but he held firm.

"This is my duty. I am honour-bound to see it done."

"You and your honour will get you killed." A quiet reserve made its way into Aeslin's voice, drawing a frown from Haldir. She pulled away, going to look out on the City of Trees. After a moment he came to stand behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders, leaning his cheek against her pale hair. Her eyes closed, fighting the well of emotions building within her.

"I can not fight this feeling of dread, Haldir. I don't know what to do." The sorrow in her voice cut at the Marchwarden. Abruptly she turned, taking his face in her hands. Her voice was resigned, but desperation and sorrow tinged her words "You were right; even here we are not safe from the darkness. You must come back. You must." Her eyes were wide and fearful, glistening with desperate tears. He took her hands again, laying gentle kisses on her slim knuckles before pulling her into his arms. But he had no words to reassure her. Not this time.

* * *

Dawn came much too swiftly, and too soon Aeslin was watching as her husband prepared to depart. She had seen him ready for his deployment on the borders before, but this was far different. Instead of donning the garb of a Marchwarden, he was preparing for war. His mail glittered in the early morning light as he pulled it over his tunic, though it was soon covered by a steadily growing assortment of gleaming armour. Resigned to his choice, Aeslin helped as she was needed, securing the ties of his breastplate and attaching his shoulder-guards as he adjusted his bracers and a leather finger-guard on his right hand. As he drew his bright scarlet cloak about his shoulders, she turned, picking up his long-handled sword from where it lay on their bed.

As she held the blade, a wash of emotion overcame her, nearly breaking through her carefully maintained composure. She had sworn not to let him see her sorrow at their parting. He was fixed on his duty, but she knew the decision had still been a hard one, and that it broke his heart to see her despair. Closing her eyes, her grip tightened as she struggled to push aside the fear that clutched at her heart. Haldir came up beside her, reaching down to pick up the quiver that lay next to where his sword had rested. He hesitated when he saw the look on her face and the white knuckles gripping his sword.

With gentle hands he pulled the sword and its sheath from Aeslin's hands, laying it down before taking her hands in his. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. No matter how hard she tried, tears began to stream silently down her face. Raising a hand, Haldir brushed them away, his fingers lingering on her cheeks, brushing against her feather-soft lashes.

"I want you to promise me something," he said, struggling to keep his voice level. Her lids quivered, but she did not open them.

"Anything," came her soft reply after a long moment.

"I want you to go to Rivendell. It would ease my heart to know you are safe. Do not follow me to Helm's Deep." She looked up at him then, but there was only sorrow in her pale eyes. Unable to restrain herself, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his golden hair. His own control waning, his arms snaked around her waist, clutching her slender frame to his.

"Only if you promise me something," she said in response, her voice wavering with the emotions she was trying to keep under control. Haldir's own eyes closed in pain. He was trying to be strong for her, but like her, he feared the outcome of this battle; he felt nothing but dread about the path he was on. She pulled away, laying her hands on his face, forcing his eyes to meet hers.

"You must meet me there."

"I will," was all he could manage, but their bond was too strong for him to hide his reservation. Not only that, but she saw in his eyes how little hope he had. She dropped her gaze, her hands moving to adjust the draping of his cloak.

"You must come back." Her voice was little more than a whisper, but her tone said so much more than any words could. Catching her chin, he leaned in for one more kiss. Her tears once again flowing freely, Aeslin pressed against him, pouring everything she had into that last kiss; her despair, her fear, her hope, her love, everything she had.

There was nothing left to say when they parted. With quick, efficient hands, Haldir swept up his quiver, while Aeslin picked up his sword, handing it to him when he had secured the straps over his shoulder and around his waist. Finally, when he had attached the scabbard to his belt, she handed him his bow, hesitating for a moment as his hands closed over the smooth grip next to hers.

With nothing further to be done, they turned, leaving their flet together.

* * *

The City of Trees was quiet as the warriors gathered in the main clearing. Even the birds and the trees were unusually silent, as if echoing the solemn mood pervading the city. Volunteers streamed in from all corners of the Golden Wood, armed, ready and willing to go to battle. Aeslin and Haldir were some of the last to arrive. Pausing at the edge of the clearing, Haldir turned, his blue eyes boring into hers.

"Do not forget your promise," he said quietly. Aeslin breathed deeply, her stoic façade in danger of slipping as he laid a hand on her cheek.

"Only if you do not forget yours," she replied, just as softly.

Without another word, he turned to join his men, pausing only before the Lord and Lady of Lorien to receive their blessing. After a few hushed words with Celeborn and Galadriel, he strode to the head of the assembled column, his face betraying none of the doubt or sorrow Aeslin knew he felt in his heart. He looked almost confident as he took his place, ordering the line ahead.

Already the contingents from Rivendell and Mirkwood waited in the clearing, arrayed in the battle finery of Lorien in homage to their united front as a single race, each one ready and waiting to make their way to Helm's Deep. They would be there by evening, and then… to battle.

As face after face filed past, Aeslin couldn't help but wonder how many would live to see the dawn.


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One quick note:
> 
> *This means the speaker is speaking in the common tongue.*
> 
> "Quotation marks indicate elvish."

**The Price**

At the Lady's request, as the sun set over the mallorn-trees, Aeslin came to join her. Galadriel knew the cost of Haldir's departure on Aeslin, and was worried for her, especially as the hour of battle grew near. It was that worry, in part, that kept the Lady of Light from watching the Battle from her mirror. But even without it, she could sense the events of Helm's Deep from afar, just as Aeslin would; only Aeslin would feel it through Haldir.

Few of the elves who now stood within the walls of the fortress had wives waiting for them at home, for indeed, many volunteers had been discouraged from serving because of the cost their death would have on those they left behind. This was not a fight where victory was inevitable. It would demand a great price, something that was well known by those who embarked upon it. Galadriel deeply regretted sending Haldir, but knew that she had little choice, as there were no others who could take his place.

As the two sat in silence, the night deepened. Celeborn joined them at one point, but Aeslin did not even register his approach, caught up as she was in the happenings in Rohan. There was a faint moment of relief when, upon reaching Helm's Deep, Haldir was greeted by Legolas and Aragorn. That relief was soon gone as, though Haldir's eyes, she saw the hordes of Saruman's Orcs approaching the fortress; a great, roiling sea of torches moving ever closer. Faintly she heard the guttural roars of the Uruk Hai, of the orders called and the sound of arrows being pulled and nocked as he did.

The Lord of Lorien looked on, concerned by the distant expressions on the two elven women with him. He was especially concerned for Aeslin, who already grew pale as far off in Helm's Deep the battle commenced. The room in which she sat was silent, but Aeslin could hear the screams and clashes of battle ringing in her ears. Usually, she was easily able to separate the thoughts and feelings of her husband when they were apart, but her concern was such that she was desperate not to shut him out. So it was that she saw everything through his eyes, a faint haze over her senses all that signaled her distance from being there herself.

The battle continued, with elves falling from crossbow bolts while Uruk's scaled the Deeping Wall with great black ladders to cut great swaths in the lines stationed there. Around him, elves were felled like sheaves of wheat before the unending hordes that ravaged the ravine. With a physical jolt that startled Celeborn and Galadriel both, Aeslin reacted when Haldir was caught off guard as the Deeping Wall exploded in a great shower of rock and stone, the bodies of elves, men and Orcs alike flying into the hordes than still pressed forward below.

Slowly, Aeslin's expression shifted from one of detached observer to one of horror and grief. Similarly, Galadriel soon had tears in her eyes as one by one, the elves she had sent to join this battle of men were slain.

Eventually, Aeslin stood, trembling, to stand near the arch that framed the view from the Lady's flet. Clutching the twining column, she leaned against it for support as she drew in breath after breath of cool night air, while through their bond she watched Haldir struggle to keep the unending lines of Uruk Hai at bay. He was a formidable warrior, there had never been any doubt about that, but there were simply too many foes for the small number that defended the Keep. That he was still alive said something of his skill alone.

Faintly, she could hear voices in the Common tongue and Elvish alike calling for the troops on the wall to fall back to the keep. Aeslin's gaze was drawn along with Haldir's to Aragorn as the Ranger called for retreat.

The relief that coursed through Aeslin was cut short, though, when, as he was calling for his own warriors to retreat, Haldir came up against yet another Uruk Hai. Like many of the others before, he cut it down with ease, but a second Uruk caught him off guard, and the Orc's blade sliced across his left forearm and buried itself in his side. With a cry Aeslin nearly collapsed as pain shot across her own arm and exploded against her ribcage.

Behind her Celeborn jumped to his feet as Galadriel's eyes shot to the healer.

She felt Haldir stagger as he looked down at his wound in disbelief, feeling his despair and anguish as he caught sight of the mutilated bodies of his fallen companions before a sharp, excruciating flash of pain burst down his back. Aeslin's eyes widened for a moment as a breathless scream erupted from her lips.

Then she saw no more.

* * *

With a sharp breath, Aeslin opened her eyes, blinded for a moment as consciousness burst upon her like a wave over rocks. Her body ached, and her head throbbed, but that didn't stop her from trying to sit up. Many gentle hands forced her back down, and it took her a moment to stop struggling.

After another moment, she had regained her bearings enough to look around her. Galadriel leaned over her, grief and fear prominent in her normally serene gaze. That alone nearly caused Aeslin to panic. Never before had she seen anything approximating that expression shining out through the Lady's eyes. Beside her, Celeborn also knelt beside Aeslin's prone form, an equally fearful look in his eyes. On her other side was an elf she recognized as Nestarion, one of the other prominent healers of Lorien. Confusion bloomed within her.

"What is happening? What is going on?" Galadriel stroked Aeslin's white-blonde hair, murmuring soothing sounds before she answered.

"We thought you had left us. We thought we had lost you." The Lady's voice was thick with emotion. Aeslin stared at her in bewilderment. After a moment they helped her to sit. Weakened as she was, Celeborn allowed her to lean against him, his arms cradling her as if she were a child.

"What do you remember?" came Celeborn's quiet voice, the concern therein mirroring that in his eyes. Aeslin thought for a moment before it all came back to her in a flash of vivid, nauseating clarity. Slamming her lids shut, she struggled to hold the sights and sounds at bay. Only when she recalled the blade sinking into her husband's flesh did her eyes burst open, a hoarse cry escaping her lips as her body seized, her anguish cutting at her like a lash. Collapsing against Celeborn, a great sob tore at her throat.

"He can't be—It cannot be true." She gasped, as she struggled to breathe. Galadriel's eyes closed in pain while Celeborn averted his eyes, unable to bear the devastation on Aeslin's face as she clung to him, heaving sobs bursting from her slender frame.

After a few moments her sobs began to quiet, and she pulled away from the Lord of Lorien. Struggling to stand, her legs refused to support her, and she fell to her knees, her hands braced out in front of her. Galadriel was at her side in an instant, her hands coming to rest on Aeslin's shoulders as the trembling elf fell silent.

"Come, Aeslin. Let Nestarion examine you." With eyes that saw very little of what was in front of her, Aeslin let the Lady guide her to the settee nearby, where she made no attempt to fend off the examination carried out by her fellow Lorien healer. After several long, tense minutes, Nestarion straightened, looking down at the almost comatose elf in front of him

"She is in perfect health. It is a miracle you are still here, Aeslin. When I arrived, you were as still and cold as death; no longer breathing, barely alive. And from what I know, with a bond so deep as the one you shared with—you should have died as well." Aeslin barely registered that he spoke, consumed as she was with grief at Haldir's passing. "I would not be surprised, though, if your child is the reason for that. Indeed, for its sake, it is lucky you still live."

All eyes flew to the older healer, Aeslin's most keenly. Those few simple words pulled her from her stupor, bewilderment and disbelief flooding into its place.

"What did you say?" Celeborn was the first to speak, for Aeslin had lost all use of her voice. Nestarion frowned, looking first to Celeborn then back to Aeslin.

"You did not know? Yes, she carries a child, and I think that may have kept her from sharing in the Marchwarden's fate." Aeslin could not believe what she heard. But, when she placed her hands on her belly she could feel the faint flicker of life there, and in place of her usually flat stomach there was instead a gentle curve beginning to grow. A child—his child. How could she not have realized? Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, but they did not fall, nor did the all-encompassing anguish consume her again. She looked up after a moment, meeting the gazes of the Lord and Lady of Lorien, disbelief still clear on her face. Galadriel's grief shone all the more clear in her blue eyes. Gliding over to sit next to the healer, the Lady wrapped an arm around Aeslin's shoulders.

"Aeslin, had we known—" Aeslin finally managed to find her voice, cutting Galadriel off.

"But you did not. Even I did not. I feel it would have changed very little. It was his duty to go, and there was no one else. I do not think anything would've changed." Aeslin's voice was shockingly devoid of emotion as she spoke; distant, and thoughtful. She stood, walking over to the spot where she had been the instant she had felt Haldir's death. Celeborn and Galadriel watched her in concern, their guilt and grief shared at the unexpected turn of events. Behind them, Nestarion shifted.

"Excuse me, My Lord, My Lady, but I must depart. The others are already gathering to leave." Celeborn nodded his assent as Aeslin's gaze rose to watch Nestarion leave the room. An instant later she was on her way toward the door as well. Galadriel shot to her feet and Celeborn stepped forward to catch her arm.

"I must join them. Rohan will need all the healers they can get," she said absently as he pulled her to a halt. Celeborn's response was incredulous as much as it was troubled.

"Aeslin, you can not still possibly still think of accompanying them, not after what you have just been through." The Healer spun to meet Celeborn's gaze, her eyes bright and forceful.

"There is nothing wrong with me that would prevent me from lending my skill, and I can help. This will help, and it is my duty. I must continue on, and my calling is all I know. Let me at least do that if I am not permitted to join my love." As she fell silent, a shadow of her grief had returned to her voice. After a moment's thought, Celeborn released her. Stepping forward, Galadriel cupped Aeslin's cheek with her slender hand. Her great wisdom once again shone forth from her clear blue eyes, mixing with the sorrow that remained.

"Go child. Find your own healing in the healing of others." Nodding once, Aeslin pulled away, leaving the Lord and Lady to their thoughts and sorrows.

* * *

Amid the now ruinous expanse of the Deeping Wall, the aftermath of the battle was devastating to behold. From far beyond the wall itself, the carcasses of Uruk-hai, horses and men littered the now ruined landscape. Within the walls, the picture was much the same, only there were bodies heaped upon bodies, still lying where they fell among their fellows, whether friend or foe.

It was here that Gimli sat, contentedly smoking on his pipe, while around him work was getting under way to clear the carnage and salvage what may. What few elves remained gathered the arrows and bows of their fellows while the men, and some women, of Rohan were clearing away the dead and scavenging salvageable weapons of their own. Already, men were retreating to the armoury, carrying great armloads of spears and swords and axes, while others began piling the corpses of the Orcs beyond the wall.

It was amid this burgeoning bustle that Legolas came down from the Keep to find the dwarf. Seeing him smoking atop the corpse of an Uruk, his arm draped over his axe, was almost comical, if it weren't for the fact that that very axe was buried in the skull of that very Orc. Coming to stand before his companion, Legolas paused examining the fine craftsmanship of his bow for emphasis as Gimli looked up from his musings.

*Final count…forty-two.* Gimli nodded, looking mildly impressed beneath his bushy mess of red hair.

*Forty-two, eh? Not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish Princeling.* Legolas frowned, suddenly suspicious of the dwarf's playfully patronizing tone, *I myself am sitting pretty on forty-three.* He nodded in an obviously self-satisfied way, gloating to himself. An almost wicked idea springing to mind, Legolas drew an arrow and in a flash planted it in the Orc's side—right between his obnoxious friend's legs, coming dangerously close to a very sensitive area. Gimli's dumbfounded gaze shot to the elf, as if saying 'what on earth did you do that for?' Legolas just leaned back, his own pleased smile coming to his face.

*Forty-three.* The dwarf was not amused.

*He was already dead.*

*He was twitching.* The elf gestured absently to the Uruk-hai upon which Gimli still sat. The dwarf responded with a disparaging glare before retorting.

*He was twitching because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!* As he spoke, for emphasis, he took a hold of his axe, the gesture causing the Orc to jerk and jolt in a decidedly macabre fashion.

The absurdity of it was enough to cause them both to laugh.

It was in the midst of that laughter that Aragorn joined them, looking decidedly less jovial. One look at their friend's face had an immediate sobering effect on the pair. After the battle ended, the ranger had set to work immediately, using his knowledge of healing to help treat the hundreds of wounded men and elves that now lay in the halls of the keep. He looked exhausted and entirely too careworn. In sympathy, Legolas laid his hand on the man's shoulder, trying to demonstrate some measure of reassurance.

*How goes it?* Gimli asked, his voice taking on a hushed, almost gentle quality. Aragorn shook his head.

*Not well. There are far too many wounded to cope with. Many will not last much longer,* the ranger said reluctantly. There was a tone of despair in his voice. Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, pushing back the sorrow at the huge numbers of the dead already.

*What of my kin? Are any of them trained as healers?* he asked after a moment. Aragorn sighed heavily.

*There are very few of them left, Legolas. The elves took hard losses in this fight, and what few are left are helping as best they can.* A sudden, sick feeling bloomed in the pit of Legolas' stomach.

*What of Haldir?* Was all he could manage to say as fear suddenly clenched around his heart. Aragorn frowned, looking at his friend in faint confusion before answering, his voice filled with sorrow.

*He fell, Legolas, during the retreat.* Legolas felt like he had been kicked in the chest, and for a moment, Aragorn was afraid his friend's legs were going to give out on him. The elf managed to stay on his feet, but his hand was now fisted in Aragorn's tunic, hanging for dear life.

*Legolas? My friend, what is it?* A hint of panic made its way into Aragorn's voice, while beside them, Gimli sprang to his feet, concern written all over his features. The elf was only able to whisper a single word.

"Aeslin…" The man and the dwarf exchanged a bewildered look before focusing their attention back on Legolas.

*Aeslin? Your sister? Legolas, what is going on?* Aragorn asked, his voice strained with bewilderment and worry. After a long moment, Legolas managed to fight back the grief that threatened to strangle him, finally drawing up his gaze to meet Aragorn's.

*Haldir was husband to my sister.* When a mix of sympathy and confusion was the only response he got, Legolas realized with pain that his companions did not understand the devastating implications of the Marchwarden's death. *Often, when we elves fall in love, a bond is created that will literally bind our lives together. We feel the emotions, the thoughts and even the pain of our partner. Sometimes the bond is so strong, and spouses joined together so completely, that they will feel the death of the other as their own.* An expression of grief sprang to Aragorn's face as what Legolas said sunk in. Legolas nodded as he saw comprehension in his friend's' eyes. Somehow, he managed to choke out a few last words before his grief took hold.

*Aeslin and Haldir had such a bond. If Haldir is dead, then so is my sister.*

* * *

Of course, Aeslin was not dead, and indeed, was at that very moment approaching the fortress of Helm's Deep with a collection of some of the best healers Middle Earth had to offer, as well as wagons of foodstuffs and supplies to relieve the people of Rohan. As the elves approached, they watched on in horror and despair at the activity progressing in the surround. Men and horses laboured to drag the carcasses of the Uruks to a steadily growing pile of corpses away from the main walls while others wove in and among the dead, searching for friends, wounded, weapons and who knew what else.

However affected the healers were by the carnage, they kept it to themselves, their faces betraying nothing as they made straight for the main causeway. As they approached the ruined gate, they were met with little opposition or even questioning.

*What business have you here?* one of the guards shouted down at them from above. Realizing that she was one of the few of their number who spoke the common tongue with great fluency, and the leader of their group, Aeslin maneuvered her mount to the front of their modest group, looking up to the guard.

*We have business with Théoden, your king.* The guard frowned for a moment before passing along an order for the men barring the entrance to let them through into the Hornburg. A quick shout to open the gate was quickly hushed as the guard reminded one of his fellows that there was no longer a gate to open. Exchanging an expression almost akin to amusement with one of her fellows, Aeslin lead the way into the fortress. Along their route, she heard voices shouting ahead to call for the King. So it was that by the time they reached the centre-most court of the Keep, the King of Rohan was already making his way down the steps to meet them.

His weary face showed nothing short of complete bewilderment as Aeslin and her company of healers dismounted before him. Nodding her head in deference, Aeslin waited politely for him to speak first, which he did in his own good time.

*What is this?* was all he could manage to say, *more elves?* Not entirely sure what he meant by the comment, Aeslin ignored it.

*We have come by way of the Golden Wood, and the Lord and Lady therein, to offer what we can in assistance here, in the aftermath of this conflict. Among us are some of the best and most skilled healers the elven kingdoms have to offer. It is our wish to see that no more lives are lost that could be saved. There has been enough death already.* She fought to keep the tremor from her voice as she spoke. On the journey across the plains of Rohan she had struggled to bury the regret and grief that threatened to consume her, and divorce her healer's mind from the devastation and sorrow that otherwise dominated her thoughts. It had taken time, but eventually she had succeeded, almost wholly separating herself from her conscious mind, leaving only the healer behind and hiding the devastated, grieving wife from all who looked on.

The King looked on in amazement, obviously not expecting anything in the way of further support beyond the troops of elves that had arrived the evening prior. After a moment of surveying the newcomers in stunned silence, he nodded.

*Yes, any assistance you are willing to render would indeed be a boon to us. Please, this way.* He called over one of his men and gave instruction to lead the healers to the Hall were the wounded were being tended. *Anything you require is yours. You need only ask.* With a gracious smile Aeslin thanked him, and, having little to do with elves until very recently, Rohan's King thought nothing of the detached and almost distant look that spread across her features.

As the elves began to climb the stairs, a shout came from behind, causing all, including Aeslin, to turn toward the source. Bounding up the causeway was Aragorn, looking tired and harried and astonished all at once, lending him a near deranged air. Relief flickered in Aeslin, but her reaction was limited by the extent she had buried any emotion. He stopped in front of her, breathing heavily as he stared at her in astonishment. All around them onlookers watched with curiosity.

"We thought— Aeslin? We were sure—" No matter what he tried to say, he could not manage to form the words. Aeslin smiled faintly, reaching out to touch his cheek.

"I am glad you are safe, Estel." Aragorn frowned, struck by the feeling that something was off. Having not expected to see her at all, he didn't know what he would've expected, but this was not it. Nearly all trace of the Aeslin he knew was gone. Only a sad distance was visible in her formerly expressive eyes. His own grief and guilt came to the fore as he looked at her.

"Aeslin, I am so sorry—" Was all he finally managed to say before she stopped him.

"What is done is done. Nothing can change what has happened." Before he could react further, Aeslin's gaze was pulled away. The other healers had moved on, leaving Aeslin and Aragorn alone on the stairs when Legolas came flying around the corner, freezing as he caught sight of his sister standing on the stair. A flicker of genuine emotion appeared in her eyes when Aeslin caught sight of her brother, something Aragorn almost missed. In a flash Legolas was at her side, staring at her with the same wonder and bewilderment Aragorn had.

"How is this possible? Aeslin, I cannot believe this. I thought I would never see you again." He took her face in his hands, marveling that she was, in fact, standing before him. "My heart bleeds for you, my sister, truly—" But before he could say or do anything else, she pushed him away as her grief began to surface, startling the two companions with its intensity before she pressed her lids shut, shielding the extent of her devastation from them as she sought to rein her emotions in.

"Do not, please. Let me grieve in my own way. And leave me be." Without another word, she turned and followed her companions up the stairs into the heart of the Hornburg. If the companions had been astounded before, it was nothing compared to the bewilderment they knew now.

Without hesitation they followed.

* * *

Aeslin threw herself into her work, moving from soldier to soldier. She assumed command early on, being one of the few elves trained in more menial means of tending to patients. As she entered the Main Hall after her reunion with Aragorn and Legolas, and had caught sight of just how many wounded there were, she immediately recalled the healers to her side.

"We cannot treat them as we would on any other occasion." She paused as the others began to protest, silencing them with a hard look. "We will kill ourselves to try. Use your skills to heal injuries that threaten to take lives, little more. Many wounds will heal themselves in time with proper care. Cleanse wounds, set or stitch them if need be and bind them. We must conserve our strength," she emphasized. Not one of the healers dared disagree, for in her vehemence the nobility inherent in her blood shone through, earning deference to her authority. After a moment Nestarion, one of the senior of the healers present, came to stand at Aeslin's side.

"Lady Aeslin is right. Heal only so far as necessary to preserve life, then move on. There are indeed too many to heal purely through our traditional means." He glanced at Aeslin for a moment, almost seeking her approval. "There are simply too few of us." A few of the healers grumbled, but, nevertheless, they all followed Aeslin's lead, and sought out the most desperate cases first. After watching them disperse, Aeslin herself turned to begin her work. She took little notice of Aragorn and Legolas continuing to watch her, hovering nearby like shadows, that was, until she reached one patient in particular.

Having already tended to several men, Aeslin came upon a youth who had been part of the battle. Seeing the boy lying so still and pallid among so many men nearly broke through her carefully constructed mental walls. Seeing the change on her face, Aragorn was soon at her side.

"Are you all right?" After a moment she nodded, but she turned her gaze to Aragorn before looking back down to the boy. Sitting at the foot of his cot was a young woman, her hand resting on the boy's calf as she slumped against the cot, lost to the sleep of the utterly worn-out. Exhaustion and grief was written all over her face and body, and her other arm was caught in a crude sling. Aragorn and Aeslin's approach did not wake her. Aeslin barely even noticed her, focused as she was on the boy.

"He's a child. How… it's unfathomable," Aeslin whispered. Aragorn laid a hand on her shoulder.

"The King was desperate, Aeslin. There were too few soldiers. Even with all those capable of bearing arms, and the elves…" He trailed off upon seeing despair blooming in her eyes. However, her expression quickly cleared.

"I may need your help, Estel." As she knelt beside the boy, and placed her hand on his heated brow, he stirred. Opening his eyes, she was hard pressed not to react to the fear and pain therein. With a gentle smile, she brushed back a strand of the boy's blonde hair, fighting to keep her true reaction hidden. He was badly wounded. A crossbow bolt had buried itself deep into his shoulder, shattering the bone and effectively severing his arm. Already, the healers of Rohan had removed the arm, being unable to even conceive of saving it. As it was, his chances did not look good.

*What is your name,* she found herself asking. Aragorn knelt across from her, drawing the boy's fevered gaze. Recognition flickered in brown and blue eyes alike.

*Haleth,* whispered the boy, still watching Aragorn.

*Son of Háma. I remember.* Aragorn said with a kind smile of his own. With the boy focusing on Aragorn, Aeslin began her work trying to fix what she could of young Haleth's shoulder. At the foot of the cot, the woman stirred, her warm brown eyes clouded with worry and fear. She didn't say a word at the ranger and the elf sitting at Haleth's side, her gaze reserved for the boy alone, as if willing him to live would be enough to make it so.

*I'm sorry, My Lord,* the boy said, his shaking voice little more than a pained whimper. Aragorn shook his head, taking the boy's remaining hand in his own.

*Don't be, Haleth. You were brave, and you are strong.* Despite a valiant effort, Haleth's chin began to quiver.

*I'm going to die, aren't I.* Aeslin was forced to pause at the desperate hopelessness in the voice of one so young. Aragorn shot her a quick look before turning his attention back to the boy. The woman was unable to withhold a moan at his words, fighting the fear Aeslin could see in her eyes.

*No, Haleth. You said the men did not think any of us would live through the night, and yet here you are. You will make it through this night, and through many that follow. Do you remember what I told you?* Weakly, Haleth nodded, wincing as Aeslin touched as particularly sensitive spot before letting out a hollow cry when she extracted a festering splinter of bone. Aragorn reached out, turning the boy's face to meet his eyes. *Do you remember?*

*You said there is always hope.* Aragorn nodded.

*Indeed. There is.* He looked over to Aeslin again, who had begun weaving and whispering incantations of healing over the mess that remained of Haleth's shoulder. Never was Aeslin's grief more apparent when she was concentrating on her work, nor was she more focused. Save for the motion of her lips and to odd shifting of her hands, she did not move a muscle as she used her gifts of healing.

A short while later she stopped, breaking from the trance she sank into when plying her craft. Then, quickly and efficiently, she bound the wound, which already looked a great deal better than when she had knelt down at Haleth's side. By this time, Haleth had fallen into an easy sleep, his fever having broken as Aeslin removed trace of infection and pulled him out of danger. The woman and Aragorn both looked up at her expectantly.

*He will live,* she said quietly, answering the unanswered question in their eyes. The Ranger let out a deep sigh of relief while silent tears began streaming down the young woman's cheeks, her chestnut eyes saying more than words of thanks and gratitude ever could. Aeslin rose, ready to move on to the next patient. Aragorn, though, did not move from where he sat.

"I will stay with him, for a time." Sparing him a faint smile, Aeslin laid her hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning aside.


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One quick note:
> 
> *This means the speaker is speaking in the common tongue.*
> 
> "Quotation marks indicate elvish."

**The Cost**

Day turned into night and then into day again, and Aeslin worked tirelessly throughout. Eventually, those around her began to grow concerned. Legolas and Aragorn especially watched her with increasing worry. More than once, Legolas tried to convince her to take some rest, but she always demurred, if she even responded at all. Her strength was beginning to wane, and all could see it. Her pale skin began to take on an unhealthy cast and her eyes grew too bright. Her voice eventually became hoarse from the incantations she was repeating over and over again. The only colour on her anymore was the stain of blood on her hands.

Since the arrival of the elves, the numbers of dying began to shrink, and the ever-increasing number of dead slowed considerably. But there were still far too many that were beyond even the help of the elves. But that did not stop them from trying. Aeslin especially tried to help them, even if it meant only being able to give them comfort alone. She was also the one most affected by those that died under her care. With every new death, her grief became harder to control, and soon, despite her best efforts, every face she looked down on seemed to be Haldir's.

She felt like she was going mad.

Still, she kept on going, and when she found she had no strength left, she continued on anyway, falling back on the mundane methods of treating patients that Elrond had taught her so long ago.

Despite his best efforts, Legolas had yet to convince her to slow her pace. He could not sway her. Even as he watched her, he began to contemplate physically dragging her away. But another part of him said that to do so would do more harm than good. He could see from the set of her features that looking to her patients was the only thing holding her together right now.

As dawn approached Gimli joined him, and together they could only stand and watch Aeslin's single-minded drive with concern. Soon after that, Théoden himself came to stand with the pair. The elf and the dwarf exchanged brief glances of curiosity, but paid him little mind. After a while, the King spoke, his gaze on the single elf who still continued making her rounds even as the others had paused to rest.

*She works with the single-minded determination of someone who has nothing left to lose. She has come to be known as the Sad One, for though her face and demeanor are calm and kind, her eyes are always red and her gaze distant, though heartrending to meet.* His voice was quiet and, to Legolas' surprise, sad. After another moment, Legolas also spoke.

*My sister has always been determined in her doings, but I have never seen her thus.* Théoden did not seem overly surprised by the elf's admission that Aeslin was family.

*I wondered. She favours you, though fairer still. But mostly I recognize the concern and feeling of helplessness in your eyes. Your pain for her is similar to that which I felt while I watched my sister fade after the death of her husband. Helpless, yes, that is what you feel seeing them like this.* He turned back to Legolas. *The one she loved was among the elves that came to our aid during the battle, wasn't he?* Legolas barely felt the need to answer, for it almost seemed the King did not need one. But answer he did, not bothering to hide the frustration and grief from his own voice.

*Haldir, the leader among them.* Théoden nodded, remembering the elf clearly. Legolas sighed. *Truthfully, I am surprised she still lives, and I begin to wonder if it would've been better for her to have joined him. Her heart is broken, and I fear her spirit as well.* Théoden frowned at Legolas' blunt but still grieved statement, turning his gaze back to Aeslin, who had risen to fetch fresh towels and another basin of clean water.

*Why would you say that?* Legolas spared the King a glance, and upon seeing a genuine concern, decided to continue.

*With a bond so strong as theirs, that she still breathes is unprecedented in our race. It is a miracle. That being said, I can see it in her eyes that she wishes it were not so, that she had died by the same stroke as everyone expected. That she will live out the rest of her life grieving for him, seeing his last moments as though living it again; it is a pain that will only worsen with time. Eventually she will fade…and die, but not until she has endured a level of agony beyond comprehension.* Théoden sighed heavily as Legolas fell silent.

*I cannot fathom such a life.* Legolas wholeheartedly agreed with the King there. A loud clatter caught their attention. On the far side of the room, Aeslin stood nearly doubled over, looking down at the basin that was now emptying its contents across the floor.

Panic flooding through him, Legolas was at her side in an instant, reaching her as the Lorien healer Nestarion did.

"What is wrong? Aeslin, what happened?" She looked up at him in bewilderment before flexing her hand, wincing as she straightened.

"I do not know. My arm, it just—I do not know." Placing an arm around her shoulders, Legolas made to lead her away. She wouldn't let him, though.

"What are you doing?" Legolas frowned when she shot him an outraged look.

"Aeslin, you need to rest. If you want to help these people you need to regain your strength."

"I am fine," she snapped, her eyes glinting. On one level, Legolas was pleased; it was more of a reaction than any he had received thus far. On another, he was most certainly not pleased.

"Aeslin, you are going to kill yourself." Her eyes flashed again, but only after turning wistful for a split second. Nestarion finally cut it.

"My Lady, you must listen to your brother. Continuing on at this pace is not healthy for you or your child." Legolas' gaze flew to the Lorien healer in shock, before swiveling back to Aeslin. She guiltily refused to meet his gaze.

"Is this true?" She nodded, fighting to hold back the tears that sprang to her eyes. Legolas fought to hold back his own growing heartache for her situation. "Aeslin—"

"Stop. I can hear no more," she keened, drawing worried eyes. One by one her tears began to fall, and she buried her face in Legolas' chest. Before any of them could say any more, Théoden had stepped forward to join them.

*Let me show you to more private quarters.* A few moments later, the King had conveyed them to his own private lodgings within the Keep, excusing himself soon after. Legolas felt a huge surge of gratitude for the man as he departed, but he wasn't left to think on it long. Once within the confines of the room, Aeslin's knees seemed to buckle beneath her. Luckily, Legolas was there to catch her before she fell, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the bed.

After laying her down, Nestarion came forward to examine her, but she abjectly refused, trying to rise from the bed at once.

"I told you, I am fine."

"Aeslin, you are not." Legolas' fear was making him angry, sharpening his tone. "You look to be on the verge of death yourself." Her expression turned sullen, her grief pouring off her in nearly tangible waves as she sank down onto the bed. Almost unnoticed, Nestarion excused himself and ducked from the room.

"Perhaps that would be best," came her eventual reply, almost too soft to be heard. Legolas felt his chest clench at the despair in her voice, making it hard to breathe. He sank down beside her.

"And what of your child," he said eventually, not caring any longer to hide the anguish he was beginning to feel. He fixed her with a pleading glance, catching her eye with difficulty. "What of his child? You would become our father for this grief."

The room was silent for a long time. Neither of them made a sound. Then, a soft, sad sound came from Aeslin, then another. Tears streamed down her face. Without hesitation, Legolas drew her close, letting her sob out her sorrows and her despair within his familiar embrace. For a moment she was almost as a child again, pouring out her heart to the one confidant who had always been there. Legolas continued to hold her, rocking his little sister as he used to when all the problems she had faced he could fix. It broke his heart to admit he could not fix it this time.

It was a long time before she was able to stop, and even then her tears continued unrelenting. It took more time still for her to gather the will to speak.

"It was a mistake to come here. I should've listened. I should've kept my promise and gone to Rivendell as he wished. He wanted me to be safe, and look at what I have done, what I nearly let myself do." Legolas just let her speak, not interrupting, knowing in his heart she needed to let this out if she was to have any chance of healing.

"We always thought we'd have so much time, that we would never run out. We spoke of sailing west someday. We spoke of having a family someday. Now…this child will never know its father. He will never know our child. I didn't even realize to tell him. I always thought he would be there with me.

"It is all so different now, and now I have broken my promise. I should never have come…" she trailed off, repeating those last few words like a mantra.

After another long stretch of silence, she pulled away, looking more like herself than she had since arriving. The anguish and sorrow in her heart was still very much present, but now she wore it with resignation. In her heart she was beginning to understand that she was powerless to do anything to change her situation. She stood, turning to face Legolas, who hadn't moved.

"I need air, and then, I think, it would be best if I departed." As much as it pained him to admit it, she was right. She should not have come to Helm's Deep. The pain was still too near. Without another word, she too left.

Outside, Aragorn was making rounds of his own, tending to the wounded as he was able with his elven-taught knowledge of medicine and healing. He was startled from his ministrations when Aeslin glided from the back of the hall and swiftly made her way outside. Concern flowing through him, he made to follow. As he reached the door, though, he was stopped by a strong grip on his arm.

*Let her alone to grieve, Aragorn. She needs time.* Théoden said quietly, leveling a knowing glance at Aragorn before turning his gaze to follow the pale form making her way through the Keep.

In moments Aeslin had made it to the outer battlements of the Keep, looking over the ravine that housed the fortress. Out in the open, she gasped for air, feeling nearly as though she were drowning.

The expanse before her was little more than a churned up mess, and to one side the pile of Orc corpses continued to grow ever higher. The clean-up in the battle's aftermath was still ongoing, with huge portions of the battleground still untouched by the swaths of men labouring among the dead. Piles of debris and weapons of all different kinds continued to grow, as did piles of bodies.

And still, among all the evidence of death and destruction, there was the odd figure still checking bodies for signs of life, and every now and then they would find it, pulling yet another wounded soldier from the hordes of dead. But Aeslin could not watch them work. In the back of her mind, she knew that somewhere down there was her husband, lying lifeless amid the bodies of other elves, men and orcs.

As her grief threatened to overwhelm her again, she was interrupted by a soft female voice. Spinning around, she was met by a young woman, the King's niece if she remembered correctly. The young woman watched the elf with a thinly veiled curiosity, obviously second-guessing her choice to speak.

*Are you well, My Lady?* Concern laced her voice, as did the curiosity Aeslin saw in her eyes. Aeslin did not respond right away, and when she did she avoided the question.

*You are Éowyn, kin of the King.* Éowyn nodded, her blue eyes wide. *Your uncle is a good man.* Aeslin turned away, focusing on the horizon and the mountains in the distance. Éowyn did not move, though.

*And you are the elven healer the men speak of, the Sad One.* Aeslin's eyes closed as a fresh wave of tears threatened to overtake her. She had heard the men whispering about her, calling her by the name Éowyn had mentioned. They had mused long into the night about what could possibly make her so sad. By morning, stories were swirling around the fortress. Until now, Aeslin hadn't given them much thought.

*I suppose I am.* Éowyn took a hesitant step forward, coming to stand beside the healer. Aeslin looked over to her. *You have a sadness about you, yourself. What grieves you, Shieldmaiden?* An almost fearful look appeared on the young woman's face before she looked away.

*I love, and yet am unloved.* Aeslin smiled faintly at the candid way she spoke, regardless of any immodesty. Éowyn was not afraid to speak her mind.

*I highly doubt that. You are indeed loved, just not in the way you are looking for. Your uncle and your brother love you. Your people love you. And someday you will find a man to love you the way you seek.* Éowyn turned back to the elf.

*I do not think I am destined for love.*

*Everyone is destined for love. Yet many pass it by, and many forget just how important it is.* The grief Aeslin fought surged forward again, colouring her voice before she pushed it back. Éowyn watched the healer for a long moment, sympathy on her face.

*For a while, I thought perhaps you were the lady Lord Aragorn spoke of, especially after the way he reacted when he saw you. Then I thought perhaps, the other elf, Legolas. But now… he is gone, isn't he; the one you love. He's down there, somewhere.* Aeslin was only half listening. Breathing became difficult again, while the ache in her back began to throb, and her vision began to cloud as more tears sprang unbidden to her eyes.

*Yes…* Éowyn barely heard Aeslin's answer, but she didn't need it. The change that came over the elf as she spoke of loss was answer enough.

*I lost my parents when I was quite young. I know it cannot compare, but you are not alone.*

*I am. I should not be here.* Éowyn looked startled at the admission, but, having little knowledge of elves, she did not comprehend what Aeslin was saying.

*No. No, do you have any idea how many more would now be dead had you not come? Enough life has been lost already.* A faint smile came to Aeslin's face.

*That is not exactly what I meant, but you are right, after a fashion. But this, it is bad enough that I see his death, feel it, every moment. Being here makes it all the worse. I should have gone to Rivendell.* The younger woman got the impression that, after the first few words, the elf was no longer speaking to her, but to herself, a conclusion enforced when the elf unconsciously reverted to her mother-tongue "I can't feel him anymore; there is a great emptiness in my mind and in my heart where he used to be. I have never felt so alone." Tears were once again streaming down her face as sobs tore at her throat. Éowyn jumped forward as Aeslin began to waiver on her feet, startled when the elf all but collapsed against her, clutching the sleeve of her dress. Looking around, she searched for anyone who could fetch Aragorn or Legolas. But, seeing no one, she just sat there, holding the broken-hearted elf.

* * *

Below, Aragorn sat on the stairs to the Great Hall of the Hornburg, smoking while deep in thought. He had seen Aeslin disappear onto the parapets of the fortress, followed a short while later by Éowyn. He hoped that perhaps speaking to another woman would help Aeslin, but he was beginning to wonder if she would ever begin to heal. It was far too early to tell if she would one way or the other, but from what he had seen of the healer so far, he was not hopeful. He took notice of Legolas eventually coming to stand beside him, but reacted very little, with only a quick glance passing between them.

"Did you see which way she went?" the elf finally asked, his voice overwrought with worry. Aragorn nodded, knowing exactly whom Legolas was speaking of.

"Up on the wall." He half expected Legolas to follow her, but after a moment Legolas took a seat beside the Ranger. "Éowyn is with her."

"Good. I am loath to leave her alone, but…" He trailed off, drawing Aragorn's gaze. He had never known his friend to be lost for words. Legolas looked tired and haggard with worry, something else unheard of in the elf. Concern lined Aragorn's face as he examined his friend's face.

"She is not doing well, I take it." Legolas let loose a heavy sigh, shaking his head.

"No. Our kind is not meant to withstand this kind of loss. I have heard of, and seen, my kind succumb to broken hearts not even half so devastating. It is destroying her, slowly. This place is not helping."

"Will she leave then?" Legolas nodded.

"She will go to Rivendell; she was supposed to go to Rivendell. He never wanted her to come here." Aragorn hesitated to voice his next question, afraid of Legolas' reaction, but he could not figure out the answer on his own.

"Why is she still alive? You said it yourself; a grief so strong as hers should have killed her." Legolas looked to his friend, and Aragorn saw a flicker of lingering astonishment written there amid his deepening sorrow; he knew how his sister endured.

But before Legolas could answer, the sound of shouts came from beyond the Keep. Frowning, the man and the elf stood, looking in the direction of the Deeping Wall. Aragorn looked to Legolas, whose hearing was far keener that his.

*What do they say?* Legolas' frown deepened.

*They call for you, and for a healer,* the elf said after a moment. Confused and concerned, Aragorn turned and bounded down the steps, Legolas close on his heels.

Coming out on the interior field of the fortress, they looked up to the wall, where several men were scattered along it. One of them caught sight of him and shouted down in excitement.

*My Lord Aragorn, we found one alive! There is one alive up here.* Astonished he climbed the steps in moments, scrambling over the bodies of orcs yet to be cleared. The wall was not much better as it had been all but inaccessible until now. As he got closer, a faint hope began to stir in the Ranger, and when he caught a glimpse of scarlet among the men gathered around, his heart nearly skipped a beat.

*Out of the way. Move!* He all but shouted, falling to his knees beside the prone body.

It was déjà vu, only different. Once again, he found himself looking down at the still face of the Marchwarden of Lorien, but as he looked closer, he could see faint movement underneath the closed eyelids, while the elf's chest rose and fell unevenly.

*He is barely alive. He needs one of the Elven healers, and fast.* His voice rose again, the tone of command jolting the men around him into action. Turning, he searched for his companion, knowing very well that he had followed at least partway. Sure enough, Legolas was still on the ground, looking up at Aragorn.

*Legolas, get Aeslin. She's on the Wall over the causeway. Hurry!* Not even pausing to question his friend's order, Legolas spun and disappeared back up the stairs into the Keep.

* * *

It was several minutes before Aeslin had calmed enough to pull away from Éowyn. Mortified at her utter lack of control in front of a stranger—and a human stranger, at that—Aeslin stood, hastily brushing away her tears.

*I am sorry. You have your own cares, you do not need to be burdened with mine, Shieldmaiden,* Aeslin said, careful to keep her voice even. Slowly, Éowyn got to her feet behind the elf, who, once again, was looking out over the ravine to the horizon.

*My Lady, I—* Éowyn paused when a look of discomfort bloomed on Aeslin's face before she gasped in pain, clutching at her ribs. *My Lady!*

Almost as if on cue, Legolas appeared on the parapet a little ways down and, on hearing Éowyn's panic, rushed forward.

*What has happening?* Legolas had no answer for the Shieldmaiden, but grabbed Aeslin, supporting her as her legs threatened to give out again. As the pain dimmed, and Aeslin's face cleared, Legolas was the first to speak.

*Sister, you are needed on the wall.* Aeslin looked up at her brother, her eyes revealing just how drained she was. She shook her head, slowly.

*I cannot do it anymore. I have nothing left.* Legolas pulled her into a tight embrace.

*I know you are tired, but they found another soldier alive.*

*You can help save one more life. I know you can.* Éowyn appeared beside the siblings, an encouraging yet hopeful look on her face. Aeslin met her eyes, eventually sighing, leaning against her brother for one final moment before pulling away.

*Lead the way.*

With haste, they made their way to the interior field. But as Aeslin reached the ruined ground below the battlements, she stumbled as pain once again flared through her back and side, nearly falling had it not been for Legolas. All around them men were continuing to haul away the dead, and as Aeslin straightened, her eyes became fixed on the cold faces and unseeing eyes of the dead elves lying in wait for their return home at the base of the wall. Legolas shook her gently, trying to break her gaze.

*They are beyond your help.* Struggling to regain her composure, she looked up toward the top of the wall, following it to the stairs. Setting her jaw, she stepped over the bodies in her path, struggling to ignore the faces that looked up at her. Eventually she reached the stairs and climbed them, relying heavily on the enhanced balance of her race to reach the top without falling.

Upon reaching the battlement, she caught sight of Aragorn a few feet away and approached. It was then that the same flash of scarlet that caught the Ranger's attention caught hers. Time seemed to stand still while the air became heavy. She heard voices around her but nothing broke through the realization that came upon her in that moment. As she surged forward, she barely allowed herself a hope. Aragorn looked up as she approached, and before he could say anything, she had pushed him aside, taking the Marchwarden's face in her hands.

"Haldir," she whispered as she looked down on the face of her husband.

* * *

He was alive. That was all that rang through her thoughts the instant she saw Aragorn kneeling at his side. He was alive. As she laid her hands against his skin, she could feel the life still in his body, no matter that it was dangerously faint. He was very badly wounded. But, he was alive.

Moments after she arrived at his side, Nestarion and another healer, Castiel, reached the wall, both as astounded as the rest. However, they mastered their surprise quickly and set about tending to their new patient.

"He's barely alive."

"I cannot feel him. How is that so?" she whispered to herself, searching for any hint of their bond. She didn't seem to hear the Lorien healer as he lowered himself beside her, taking stock of Haldir's condition himself.

"Aeslin." Her gaze jerked to him as he laid a hand on her arm, "Aeslin, you need to move so we can tend him." As Nestarion spoke, Aeslin's eyes flashed in momentary fury, startling the healer, but it was gone in an instant.

"I can help, Nestarion. Am I not a healer myself?" After a moment, the healer nodded.

"Indeed you are, Aeslin. We will need your skill. But we need to get him into the Hall." Nestarion turned to Aragorn, who then turned to the men still standing around them. But as they made to move the Marchwarden, Aeslin let out a hoarse cry, drawing all attention to her. In an instant Legolas and the healers understood.

"You still feel his pain? You have this whole time?" Comprehension and horror dawned on Aeslin's face.

"I did not know. I can't feel him through our bond. I thought it was lingering pain from when he…" Her gaze fell back to Haldir. "We need to hurry."

It took a long time to get Haldir back to the Hall, and before they even got there, Aeslin had all but fallen unconscious from the transference of Haldir's pain. That did not stop her from trying to reach his side once they had laid him on an empty pallet. Finally Legolas had to hold her back. Nestarion stood, coming over to where the siblings waited anxiously.

"Let me near him." As she spoke, Aeslin's voice seemed both desperate and threatening, causing Nestarion to hesitate.

"Aeslin, I can't let you do that."

"Why not." Anger surfaced in her eyes, and Legolas watched the exchange warily, hoping the Lorien healer was careful with his next few words.

"His wounds will be difficult to heal. His arm and his side will be simple enough, but the wound on his back… several of the ribs are cracked, at least one is shattered. Plus all the flesh and muscle surrounding are severely damaged. It will take time, and likely to be painful to him."

"If it is to be so difficult, why would my help be unnecessary?"

"Not unnecessary, but potentially detrimental. It's your bond, Aeslin. You are too closely linked. Any pain he feels, you feel. We cannot risk anything happening to you." Bewilderment spread over her features, as her eyes slid to where Haldir lay. Seeing that she didn't understand his line of thinking, Nestarion continued, his voice gentler than it had been before.

"You may be all that's keeping him alive. We need you to focus on keeping him here. He's very far away. You will need to bring him back from whatever darkness he has fallen into when we are finished healing his body." As the healer spoke, the anger in Aeslin bled away, leaving only anguish and concern in its wake. Mutely, she nodded. As soon as Legolas released her arm though, she slipped past them, positioning herself at her husband's head.

She sat there, silent, her eyes roaming over his still features as her fingers brushed his hair back from his face. After a moment she looked up, meeting the gaze of those around her.

"Very well, but I stay here." Nodding in understanding, Nestarion turned to Castiel and the other healers that had wandered over as they spoke.

"Then we shall begin."


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One quick note:
> 
> *This means the speaker is speaking in the common tongue.*
> 
> "Quotation marks indicate elvish."

**Wonder, Unease and Uncertainty**

The first thing he saw was light, for there was sunlight streaming into the Hall in wondrous profusion. But his eyes were sensitive at first, so it took some time before he adjusted and was able to see more. He lay on his back, looking to the ceiling and the high barrel-vaulted stone architecture. His memory was hazy, but slowly, things were returning to him. Unfortunately, his location was yet to be among the things he recalled.

His surroundings were undoubtedly unfamiliar, and that would've normally drawn a frown from him, but he couldn't bring himself to mind. A great peace lingered over him, something he was unable to explain, not that he really wanted to.

Next, he tried to move. His entire body was stiff, and he was very weak, so he only managed to move his head, giving him leave to look about his surroundings better.

"You should be dead, my friend." Turning toward the voice, this time Haldir did frown. Aragorn sat nearby, watching him closely while a waft of misty-blue smoke drifted about from the pipe in his hand. More and more was returning to the Marchwarden, and after a moment, he recalled journeying to the fortress of Helm's Deep. Leaning forward, the Ranger rested his elbows on his knees, watching as everything came back to the elf. In fact, the last thing he remembered was the pain spreading through his body, and the horror of his dead comrades staring up at him as the world tilted beneath him.

"Indeed I should." His eyes met the blue ones of the Ranger, who easily read the silent question there.

"You gave us quite a scare, but ultimately, you owe your life to her." As the Ranger rose to his feet, Haldir followed Aragorn's gaze, shifting to look down beside him.

Curled against his side, her pale head on his shoulder and his hand gripped tightly in her own, lay Aeslin. In sleep she was beautiful as ever, and more at peace than Haldir had seen her in a long time.

Everything else ceased to exist. He traced a finger across her delicate cheekbone, following the contours of her face up to the tip of her pointed ear and back down until he reached her full lips. Under his touch, she began to stir, her lashes quivering against her skin as she woke. It felt like time stood still when her pale blue eyes met his. A faint frown crossed her features before a gentle smile blossomed on her face, illuminating her face with unmatched joy and relief.

"You are awake." She whispered, pulling herself up so that she could look down on him. He nearly laughed.

"I am not so sure yet. This must be a dream." She shook her head, leaning down to place a hesitant kiss on his lips.

"I have wondered at that as well, but I have come to believe this is indeed real."

"Well, I could not think of a better one if it were to be."

After pulling her down for another kiss, still not quite believing that she was indeed beside him, she helped him to sit. When his muscles protested at the movement and the ache in his back flared, she reluctantly explained the extent of the healing that had been done on him.

"At one point Nestarion was unsure if they would be able to heal your back at all, there was so much damage, and your injuries left untended for so long. As it is, it will still take time to fully heal" Her hands trembled against his back and shoulders, where they lay supporting him as he straightened. He looked over to her, taken aback by the trepidation that still lingered in her features. She still could not reconcile events of the last few days with the fact that he was still with her. "It has been two days since they found you. You were barely alive…" She tried to hide it, but the pain and fear that had nearly consumed her bled into her voice. Reaching over, he lifted her chin so that she met his eyes. Even though the grief he saw there cut deep, he had to know something.

"How is it that we are still here? I died. I know I did. And I felt you following me. How are we here now?" It was something that had troubled him since he woke. Aeslin dropped her gaze, a shaky breath passing her lips.

"None of us are quite sure. When you fell—" her voice broke, but after a moment she regained her composure, "when you fell, part of me died too. Your consciousness drifted so far away that our bond was nearly broken. It nearly killed me too. It did kill me, for an instant. The Lady said that I grew cold and still, as though I too had passed. She thought I had. Then I woke up." Haldir watched her in morbid fascination as she quietly explained, his mind reeling. "Nestarion thinks that since I survived, and since our bond did not completely shatter, I pulled you back, that my life-force kept you alive even though I could not feel you." Sadness infused her voice, as did wonder. He could not help but remember, in the split second, before the darkness engulfed him the feel of her following him. However, he still could not understand something.

"But how? How were you spared? I felt you with me…" A faint smile came back to her face. Without a word, she reached over, taking his hand and placing it with care over her belly. He looked from their hands up to her face, where she met his questioning gaze with a timid nod alone.

"A child?" She nodded again.

"Our child," she whispered back. Haldir would've laughed for joy, but he was still too stunned for little more than a faint chuckle as he pulled her into his arms.

Though joy suffused them both, after a moment, Haldir drew away, growing solemn. Aeslin frowned at the sudden change.

"What is it?"

"I put you both in danger." He found that he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. "I could have refused to leave you. I could have refused to come here, to Rohan." Aeslin felt tears prickling behind her lids, threatening to form. But she'd had enough of weeping, and firmly pushed them away.

"Yes. You did. You could have. But that is behind us now. I am alive, as is our child; you could even say we owe our lives to this babe. And you are still here, which is more than I ever could've hoped a mere two days ago. We have a future. That's all that matters." She forced him to meet her eyes, troubled by the despondency she saw there. "Please, do not dwell on this. I cannot bear to lose you again."

A faint smile came to his face as he drew her close again.

"Of that, I have no intention of allowing."

Aeslin sighed, content as the anxiety and fear that hounded her began to ebb. Now they could truly begin to heal.

* * *

Several days later, Helm's Deep was emptied. Citizens of Rohan began to make the journey back to their homes, while the King made his own preparations to leave. A substantial number of his people had already departed, and in a short while the rest were to follow him back to Edoras. However, the elves were not to be among them.

*You are welcome to join us, to celebrate with us. We all owe your people our lives,* insisted the King. But the elves too longed to return home.

*As much of an honour as that would be, My Lord, the celebration is yours. Our hearts call us home.* Aeslin had once again been chosen to speak with the King, something that she was content with. *We too must thank you, Théoden King. You have been most gracious. We are grateful for the outcome of this alliance, and we grieve with you at the high cost of victory.*

*Indeed. Any loss is a loss too many. But thanks to you and your healers, Aeslin of Lorien, many lives were spared that would've otherwise been lost. It is a miracle, one of many that you seem blessed with.* His glance flicked to Haldir, who stood beside her. Aeslin bowed her head in acknowledgement, a smile coming to her face. As they spoke, Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli and Legolas had approached, waiting a short distance away as Aeslin relayed the formal farewell of the departing elves. Catching sight of them, Théoden smiled.

*Farewell, Lady Aeslin. I wish you, and your people, happiness in the days ahead should we ever be free of this darkness.*

*Even night must end, My Lord King. One day we shall be free if it.*

*Let us hope so. Let us hope that we will be here to see that day. Go now, say farewell to your friends. I will hold you up no longer.* With a smile the King turned and retreated. Sketching a faint bow to the Healer and a few short, fond words of farewell, the wizard too departed, leaving Aeslin alone with Haldir, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn.

*So this is goodbye again,* Aeslin said with a resigned sigh. Aragorn shook his head.

*Only until we next meet.* Aeslin stepped forward, embracing her friend.

*I hope that day comes soon,* she replied. Pulling away, she grinned, hesitating for a moment before affectionately tugging a lock of his hair. Laughing softly, he did the same. As she turned to the dwarf, Haldir and Aragorn clapped each other's shoulder, speaking softly.

"Be well, my friend. May your journey home be swift," the ranger said earnestly.

"And you, Aragorn. I wish you luck, though you seem to have no short supply of that." Aragorn laughed as a wry grin played across the Marchwarden's face.

"No, I think it is you who have all the luck, Haldir. It is not often that anyone comes back from the dead." It was then that Aragorn turned serious, clasping Haldir's shoulder in a firm grip, "Do not waste a moment. It is not often that you get another chance." Haldir's gaze turned to Aeslin, who was laughing merrily with Gimli and Legolas.

"I do not intend to. I have no intention of endangering them again." A faint frown played across Aragorn's face at the elf's choice of words. A proud smile came to the Marchwarden's face before he looked back to the Ranger. "Nothing is more important now than my wife and child." The frown cleared immediately to be replaced by a warm smile, and a fresh clap on the shoulder.

"I am happy for you both." They turned to see Aeslin watching them with curiosity before turning back to her brother.

The Mirkwood elf pulled his sister into one last embrace. Pulling away, he looked down on her fondly.

"I will miss you, sister. Take care of yourself, and my little niece or nephew." A mischievous smile came to his lips. Aeslin gave him a playful shove before her smile faded slightly.

"Now that I have seen what you face, I fear for you, brother. Come back from this—whatever it is you strive to accomplish." Legolas grinned.

"Of course I will. I have made it this far without so much as a scratch, have I not? I will return. I'll even try and keep these other two safe." With a small laugh at his attempt at light-heartedness, Aeslin laid a kiss of parting on his cheek.

"Good," was all she could say. Haldir came to stand beside her, laying a protective hand on her shoulder. Behind them, horses were being led around, several other elves beginning to gather in preparedness to depart.

"I will hold you to that, brother," Haldir added, a faint smile on his face. Legolas made a formal gesture of farewell to the Marchwarden, holding his gaze.

"Do not worry, brother. You will see me again," the Mirkwood Prince rejoined. A confident look in his eye, Legolas took hold of the reins of Aeslin's horse. After she mounted, Legolas handed the reins to Haldir, hesitating for a moment.

"I told you to take care of her once, and you nearly let her down," he said, his voice low and grave. He held out the reins, the expression in his blue eyes intense, verging on threatening. Haldir reached out, taking the smooth leather bands from the Mirkwood elf's hand.

"I will not do so again. That I swear." With a curt nod, Legolas stood back, the severe expression melting away before Aeslin could catch sight of it.

Sobered, Haldir looked up to his wife. Aeslin sat upon her horse, watching him with a gentle smile.

"Are you ready to return home, my Aeslin." Her smile widening, she nodded. With a deep breath, Haldir exchanged one last look with Legolas before mounting behind Aeslin, allowing her to guide the horse down the ramp, followed shortly by the healers, the remaining elven warriors and the reverently handled dead as they began their trek home.

* * *

Lorien was reached in what seemed to be very little time. As the column of elves crossed the border, each and every one of them felt their minds eased even as they passed under the first green and gold bowers. Aeslin too felt relief and peace flow through her as she breathed in the scent of the Woods. So much had changed since she had departed Lorien, and all for the better; something she never would've dreamed as she began her venture to the Fortress of Rohan.

Beside her, Haldir also was pleased to be back, though he was much more sober than Aeslin and some of the others. Behind them, several of the elves had begun to sing, delighted to be home, yet lamenting that so many would never see home again. It weighed heavily on his heart. It was a level of guilt he had never experienced before; a weight on his chest that he couldn't alleviate. He had seen battle before, and he had lost those under his command before, but not like this. Helm's Deep had been a massacre. Plus, he had risked the life of his wife and unborn child. That he and Aeslin had been ignorant of their babe was of little consolation to him. And now, he could no longer feel her the way he had before. He could sense her presence, yes, but little else. It was disconcerting and distressing, something that he was sure she felt too. He had no idea how to mend what had been broken.

Perhaps the Lady would know what to do.

* * *

The Lady Galadriel had little to say, though her joy at the return of her people was clearly evident on her face, as was her sorrow at the great number of absent faces. Celeborn also shared in her conflicting feelings.

Unfortunately, the Lady also had little to say to Haldir's concern over his damaged link to Aeslin. As her piercing eyes roamed over to him, he heard her voice inside his head, and felt her joy at his safe return. _Time is what you need now. Time and healing_. After that she was silent.

A short while later, the healers and remaining warriors from Rivendell and Mirkwood expressed their anxiousness to set forth for their own homes. On an impulse, Haldir turned to Aeslin.

"Perhaps we should go to Rivendell." She met his earnest gaze with bewilderment, but something in his eyes gave her pause. That she couldn't feel his thoughts was a persistent source of unease to her, and the idea of going to Rivendell was a tempting one. Perhaps it was what they needed.

"Yes, that might be best, so long as you stay beside me." Haldir smiled, placing a kiss on her brow. A short while later, they were continuing on, along with the remaining Mirkwood and Rivendell elves.

As Lorien faded into the distance behind them, Aeslin felt a tightness grow in her chest. Away from the peace that suffused the Golden Wood, her anxieties once again pressed on her mind, and Haldir was oblivious. That was what worried her most. She missed the intimacy of the connection they had, she felt empty without it.

As they reached the road that led to the Old Ford and on to Mirkwood, Haldir, Aeslin and the handful of Rivendell elves departed from a significant proportion of their party who then turned east to the Woodland realm of her birth, carrying with them a message to her father that she, and her brother, were both unharmed. The rest of them turned west and continued on to Rivendell. The High Pass was crossed with surprising ease, and before they knew it, they were approaching Rivendell.

Evening had already descended when Elrond's domain finally came into sight, lit up like a beacon in the night, welcoming them home. As she anticipated, Elrond was already waiting as they entered Rivendell, though the anxious expression he wore was not at all expected.

Before she could even think of dismounting, Haldir was already at her side, waiting to lift her down. Once on the ground, she fixed him with a stern look before pulling away from the circle of his arms.

"I'm not going to break, Haldir. You are still healing yourself. You shouldn't—" A slightly bashful look came over his face.

"I know. But I should think I am allowed to be attentive, all things considered."

"Why do I get the feeling you are going to drive me mad?" It took a great deal of effort to keep her voice even semi-serious, something that caused her husband to smirk. Shaking her head, Aeslin pulled away and turned toward her former teacher and adoptive father. He was already finishing welcoming the healers and warriors from Imladris by the time she made her way toward him. The anxious expression still on his face, he held out his arms to her as the other elves slowly dispersed from the courtyard. The hug he enclosed her in was tighter than she remembered; a testament to his fear for her, she realized achingly, and his relief.

"You do not know how pleased I am to see you, daughter of my heart. I feared the worst. For a short time I was sure the worst had come to pass." As she pulled back from his welcoming embrace, the Lord of Rivendell took his former student's face in his hands, examining her features with obvious concern. "Something has happened. Something has changed in you." Aeslin wasn't sure whether to frown or smile as Elrond dropped his hands to take hers.

"Several thing have indeed happened, My Lord Elrond. Some good, while others were decidedly not." It was Haldir who answered, a faint smile on his lips despite his serious tone. Aeslin did not think it was possible, but Elrond's frown deepened

"Tell me everything." As she opened her mouth to speak, a shout came from the other end of the courtyard, causing the three of them to start. Elrohir was rushing toward them across the courtyard, followed shortly after by Elladan. Before Aeslin could brace herself, Elrohir had swept her up in a great hug, spinning her around while words of thanks poured from his lips.

"You cannot possibly know how happy and relieved we are to see you, little sister." Elladan said as Elrohir set her down. Aeslin nearly laughed at the decidedly displeased expression that crossed Haldir's face as Elrohir had swept her up. The brother too, noticed the look he was receiving and became slightly wary.

"Why do you look at me so, Marchwarden?" Now they all looked at the Lorien elf, who still wore a concerned look on his face. Reaching over, Aeslin took one of his hands, giving him a reassuring smile.

"It has been a—dramatic past few days. I think we are both a little strained." This time, frowns nearly identical to their father's appeared on the brother's faces. Haldir and Aeslin shared a long look, each trying to communicate the way they used to, but settling for reading each other's expressions instead; something Elrond seemed to pick up on. Nevertheless, he kept it to himself, allowing Aeslin to speak.

"Victory at Helm's Deep had a cost, and not just in lives lost. It changed lives as well, including ours. Haldir was injured…in truth, he died." She nearly wasn't able to speak those final words. Expressions of alarm and confusion erupted on the faces of her Rivendell family, and with a sense of near urgency, Aeslin and Haldir were all but dragged to Elrond's study, where they were forced to recount the whole story.

Haldir told of the battle itself, and Aeslin followed his telling with her own. Both of them hesitated relating the moment that nearly took both their lives, but after some hesitation, Aeslin recounted it as quickly as she could as she remembered it better. After that, she told of her time at the Fortress and the finding of Haldir, barely alive, among the dead. Elrond interrupted here, the healer in him especially interested in the parts that followed, asking Aeslin question after question of the process the healers went through to heal the Marchwarden. Here, Haldir was silent, for he remembered nothing between his fall and when he awoke in the Great Hall of the Hornburg. There was, however, one thing that the couple left out, unsure how to broach the subject. Soon enough, though, Elrond made the revelation inevitable.

"One thing I still do not understand is how you survived your husband's death. Your explanation that you pulled him back is logical considering the strength of your connection, but I have never heard of a bond like yours allowing one of you to live through the death of the other in the first place." Aeslin and Haldir exchanged another long look, ending with Haldir giving her a small nod of concession; something that, for a second time, did not pass Elrond's notice. Eventually, Aeslin looked back to her mentor.

"I did not pass on when he did because I still had reason to survive," she paused, hesitating at the shifting expressions on her adoptive family's faces. "I carry a child, and I suspect that, for that reason, I endured the shock of Haldir's passing." The three Rivendell elves looked at her in silence for a moment. Elrohir was the first to break out into a smile.

"Our sweet elfling, a mother?" he said, wonder the only expression on his face. Beside him, Elladan laughed, congratulations coming first from him. Aeslin smiled along with them, accepting their best wishes and teasing with a gentle patience. Haldir, however was focused on the thoughtful expression that Lord Elrond wore.

"You look troubled, My Lord Elrond." The others fell silent as the Marchwarden spoke. Elrond glanced up, his gaze passing first from Haldir to Aeslin, and then to his sons.

"Could you give us a moment?" The pair rose without question, though many lingered in their eyes as they bowed themselves out of the study. When they had left, Master Elrond leaned back, tenting his long fingers before him.

"Your bond has been damaged, hasn't it?" Aeslin dropped her eyes, afraid of what might show there, whether it be grief or humiliation or helplessness. Haldir glanced to her, his face distinctly troubled in the absence of his carefully constructed mask.

"Yes," the Lorien elf finally whispered. "I can no longer feel her thoughts, or speak to her without words. There is something missing, and it pains us."

"I can feel his presence, nothing more. He is there, but I cannot touch him." While Haldir's voice had been quiet, Aeslin's was nearly inaudible. Elrond sighed, obviously troubled. His student looked up, a hopeful light coming to her eyes. "Do you know what to do, Master Elrond? Do you know how to fix this?" The Lord of Imladris sighed, standing and beginning to pace. Aeslin and Haldir were soon on their feet as well, turning to follow his movements.

"I am not sure. When Celebrian returned after her ordeal, after I healed her, our bond was never the same. It was as strong as it had been before, but I could not reach her. I attributed the change to the trauma she endured. I can only imagine the same applies to you." The light growing in Aeslin's face dimmed.

"So you do not know," again, her voice was quiet, only this time it was filled with pain. Elrond shook his head, his voice sober and sad in the wake of his painful memories.

"Not definitively. But then, I did not have time to work out a means to heal the gap growing between us. She sailed across the sea shortly after—" He took a long while to continue, sinking deep into thought again. "Give it time. Even if your bond was only half so strong as the one I shared with my wife—which, given what has transpired I do not doubt its strength—it will heal if you give it time." Haldir frowned.

"That is all you can offer?" Aeslin shot him a concerned glance at the cynical tone present in her husband's voice. Elrond held up a hand in peace.

"As your wife said earlier, Haldir of Lorien, the last several days have been uncommonly eventful and undoubtedly traumatic to you both, physically and mentally. You were mortally wounded, and witness to the murder of many under your command. Aeslin withstood the shock of your death, faced the rest of time without you at her side and, I imagine, knowing my pupil, nearly killed herself trying to heal as many as she could in effort to forget her own pain. And, in addition to all that, your bond was nearly torn asunder.

"None of that is something anyone can recover from in a matter of hours or even days or weeks. It could be years, at least." The Marchwarden was about to protest, but Elrond cut him off before he could say anything else. "What I suggest is that you both retire. I doubt either of you have had any true rest since this all began, nor, I think, have you even been allowed even a few moments alone in each other's company. I suspect that would be a good first step on your road to recovering what you have lost." Without so much as another word, he dismissed them with a gesture, his disquiet and agitation visible in his every movement.

Recognizing his need for privacy, Aeslin and Haldir wasted no time in slipping from the room. Once outside, Haldir released a frustrated sigh, causing Aeslin to pause.

"I'm not sure that was necessary. He's trying to help us, Haldir."

"It certainly wasn't much, was it?" Aeslin was taken aback by the harsh tone he used, something he had never done with her before. After a moment, she started walking again, though Haldir's pace was almost difficult for her to keep up with.

"You do not need to speak like that with me. We are both disheartened by this, my love. You do not suffer alone." Her sorrow had seeped into her voice, even as she fought to remain calm. This time it was Haldir who paused, turning to look at Aeslin, who was forced to stop suddenly. He refused to meet her gaze, but Aeslin knew from the set of his shoulders alone that he was mortified that she had called him on his behaviour. She stepped forward, laying her hands on his shoulders. "I do not need to see your mind to know this pains you, my love. It pains me also." Still, he did not meet her gaze, though his hand came around to grasp hers.

"This is all my fault." She nearly didn't hear him speak, so quiet was he, "I have caused you nothing but pain." Aeslin was affronted by his sudden despondency. With a sigh, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Haldir—you know that is not true. You have brought me so many things more wonderful than pain. Please, do not fall into this trap of hopelessness. We will get through this, for, sure as the sun, we will endure this." Finally, he turned to her, meeting her gaze as she pulled away.

"I am a fool, Aeslin." Looking at him with a faint expression of exasperation, she pulled his face down to lay a quick kiss on his lips. When she spoke, her tone held nothing but warmth and affection.

"If that is the case, then you are my fool, and I shall love you anyway." Then, with a faint smile and a more cheerful sparkle in her eyes, she continued on down the hall, her husband following close behind.


	21. Chapter 20

**Of Waiting, Of Hoping**

Of one thing, Elrond was most certainly right. Rest and time to themselves was far more beneficial than anything else. So it was that the next several weeks went a long way toward mending the gap between Aeslin and Haldir.

All their time was spent together, and eventually, each revealed the new and deep wounds that now scarred their souls. Revelations of guilt and grief and sorrow were brought to light, and Aeslin and Haldir alike struggled to come to terms with the events of Helm's Deep. It was hard, and more than once the couple took their frustrations and pain out on each other, but such tensions always ended up resolving themselves, usually ending with one, the other or both to unburden their hearts, allowing them to reach a new understanding of each other's experience. It was deeply cathartic, and healing soon followed, allowing those wounds to begin to fade. Imladris proved itself once again to be a sanctuary. However, the idyllic respite was not to last.

Aeslin learned the morning after their arrival in Imladris that Arwen had departed for the harbour, something that troubled the healer. Aragorn had told her of this, but she hadn't believed it. She still couldn't fathom Arwen leaving him behind. As it turned out, she was partially right.

A few days after she learned of Arwen's journey, she and Haldir were taking a leisurely afternoon in the library. They were perfectly content to sit together and read to each other in the sunlight, when they were disturbed by a faint commotion in the courtyard just outside. Sitting up, Aeslin peered out across the lawn to the terrace adjacent Elrond's study. She stood when she saw Arwen, clad in a flowing silver-blue gown, bearing down on her father. They were just far enough away that the healer could not make out their words, but it was perfectly clear that Arwen was upset and Elrond verging on despondency from their tones and their postures alone. After a moment, the raised voices quieted, and Elrond sank down onto the chair behind him, Arwen sinking down in front of him.

Slowly, Aeslin began to move toward the entrance to the Library, only for Haldir to reach out, halting her as his hand found hers.

"Perhaps it is best to leave them for a time." She saw the wisdom in his words, but still Aeslin longed to go to her friends. After a moment, she allowed Haldir to pull her back to the chaise where they had been sitting. Still, worry beset Aeslin; something troubled Arwen and Elrond. Though she had her suspicions, she could not be sure just what.

* * *

Soon enough, Aeslin was presented with the opportunity to speak with Arwen. She was sitting in the garden just beside the Library when, upon glancing up, she caught sight of her friend among the shelves. Standing, she passed under the arch that led inside, pausing to watch the older elf for a moment.

"I thought you had left for the Harbour?" Arwen started when she heard Aeslin's soft voice, spinning to face the younger elf.

"Aeslin? I thought… I did not realize you had come to Imladris!"

"I did not realize you had left. Why did you go, Arwen? And why did you come back?" Arwen dropped her gaze looking almost ashamed.

"I was afraid, and I lost faith. I began to doubt my decision to give up my heritage, to give up myself to time and eventually death. But then I caught a glimpse of my future, and just what I was risking. I saw my son…" Her voice trailed off, thick with regret. Aeslin unconsciously raised a hand to her belly, where her own child was growing. Sympathy flowed through her.

It was then that Aeslin saw the books in Arwen's hands. "What are you looking for?" As she raised her head, Arwen's face held a determination that made Aeslin uneasy, and for the first time she noticed a fervent light in her friend's eyes.

"I look for hope, and a way to secure my future." Ignoring Aeslin's frown of confusion, Arwen turned her attention back to the collection of texts before her. Sensing she would get no more out of her friend, Aeslin retreated back to the garden, even more troubled by Arwen's behaviour than she had been before.

* * *

Before even a week had passed, things were about to get very troubling indeed. Here and there, Aeslin caught snippets of conversation between Arwen and her father. Even her brothers were being excluded, causing widespread tension to spread throughout Imladris. Elladan especially was concerned.

"Father was never terribly keen on Arwen falling in love with Aragorn. He fears to lose her, and if she chooses mortality, we will all be parted from her, for eventually, we all will sail across the sea, and our sister will be left here to die once her life is spent." Aeslin could tell that Elladan, like his father, was not keen on the idea of Arwen giving up her immortality.

"But it is still her choice, Elladan. She will choose what path she will, no matter how much you would wish it otherwise." The dark-haired elf spared Aeslin a hard glance.

"You would encourage this?" Aeslin straightened, a hard look of her own coming to her face.

"And you would not? I know how it is to love and have your family disapprove. I will not be a hypocrite. I have also faced the reality of living out the rest of my long life without the one I love, and it made the future far from bright. I have seen the reality of it in my father. I would not force anyone to endure that pain. And neither should you; you see everyday the pain your father bears, being separated from your mother, and they will one day be reunited." To Aeslin's pleasureless satisfaction, Elladan looked sufficiently chastened as she finished. Letting out a sigh, she cupped his cheek, her voice far more gentle. "Would it not be better for her to have joy and happiness for a single lifetime than for her to be alone and bereft until the end of time?" He sighed sadly, shaking his head in resignation.

"You have certainly grown wise, sister of my heart. You are right. To stay with Aragorn would indeed make her happy beyond measure. But that may be beyond reach now." Aeslin frowned.

"How so?"

"The war does not go well. Gondor is under threat and likely to fall, and there is no word on the One Ring. That Aragorn will survive becomes less likely the longer this conflict drags on." Aeslin looked out over Imladris. A short distance away, amid the arched and shaded terrace beyond the library she could see Arwen and Elrond deep in discussion.

In the last several days, Arwen's resolve had only deepened, her demeanor calm as she was steadfast in her choice. She was as a fleeting shadow amid the columns and trees of Rivendell, focused on her quest with a single-minded intensity that blocked out all else. Aeslin had not even been able to coax so much as another word from her friend. Elrond as well was becoming similarly reclusive, shunning all attempts to speak with him, whether it was with Arwen or anyone else. So it was that Aeslin was reduced to watching them both from afar.

Even now, as she stood speaking quietly with Elladan, she could see Elrond turning from Arwen's obviously pleading figure. As he began to walk away, Arwen sank down onto a nearby chaise, moving out of Aeslin's line of sight. The healer, though, was stopped mid sentence when Elrond turned back to his daughter before suddenly disappearing from her view as well. A feeling of foreboding passed over Aeslin before she suddenly left Elladan where he stood, making her way down to where she saw Elrond disappear. Before she was halfway there, Elrohir, who looked as worried as she suddenly felt, intercepted her.

"Father is asking for you, Aeslin." Her breath catching in her throat, Aeslin followed him to the terrace where she had last seen her mentor and her friend. As they approached, she caught sight of Arwen sitting with her father kneeling before her. As she came up beside them, Elrond shot her a look of such worry and heartache that Aeslin nearly took a step back. Arwen too looked up, but her gaze was distant within her pale face.

"What is wrong?" It took all of the young healer's effort to speak. Elrond looked back to his daughter, his features tight in fear.

"It is done, I have chosen my fate." It was Arwen who answered. A faint smile came to Arwen's face, but her eyes were ever so slightly unfocused, causing alarm to course through Aeslin. Dropping down beside her friend, she took one of Arwen's hands from her father. Clasping it tightly, Aeslin laid her other hand against Arwen's cheek, the healer in her coming to the fore. After a moment, Aeslin inhaled sharply, turning her gaze to Elrond's troubled one.

"You sense it too." The despair in his voice was obvious, and despite her assured words to Elladan mere minutes earlier, she began to doubt her friend's choice. Aeslin nodded, tears coming to her eyes despite her efforts to fend them off.

"What have you done, Arwen?" A perplexed look came over the dark-haired elf as she turned her gray eyes to Aeslin.

"Why do you say that, you who have supported me in this." Aeslin ignored the flash of betrayal that surfaced on her mentor's eyes, keeping her focus on Arwen.

"And support you I do. You know that. But by choosing this now—Arwen, your life is ebbing away far faster than any of us could have anticipated. You are dying."

"I know what I am doing." The surety in her voice did nothing to assuage the fear growing in Aeslin's heart.

"Arwen—" Elrond's voice broke before he could say another word, but Arwen gave him a contented smile anyway.

"Do not fret, father. All will be well. It must."

* * *

That evening, Aeslin sat with the steadily weakening Arwen, growing more and more concerned as time passed. All colour had begun to bleed from her skin, while her movements grew ever more sluggish. After a while Haldir came to sit with Aeslin, their slowly healing bond relaying her anxiety to him. While his presence eased her worry a little, it was far from banished from her mind. Periodically, Elladan and Elrohir would also join them, but Aeslin could see from the expressions on their faces that it nearly broke their hearts seeing their sister in this manner, particularly Elladan.

"Is this what you had in mind?" Arwen lay quietly, lost in a troubled sleep while Aeslin sat in vigil beside her. That her brother was frustrated and frightened went without saying, but the anger in his voice startled the healer.

"Of course not. That you would think that of me…Elladan, we could not have known this would happen, that she would be so affected by the darkness that surrounds us." Her voice was hushed, conscious of the fact that Arwen slept only fitfully. Elladan was not so careful.

"This would not be happening had she continued on to the harbour."

"You know she would never have abandoned him, she cannot; that is why she remains," Somehow Aeslin managed to keep her own fears from her voice, keeping her tone sympathetic but firm. Haldir stood from where he had been sitting on the far side of the room, earning a hostile glance from the dark-haired brother. Turning his flashing gray eyes to Aeslin Elladan spoke, his voice low and threatening.

"You should not have encouraged this, Healer."

"That is enough, Elladan." Elrond appeared out of the shadows behind his son, his voice tired and careworn, "she is right." Elladan was far from pleased at his father's words, but he did not dare voice that displeasure. Aeslin turned her own tired glance from the brother to the father, taking in the dark cloak thrown about her mentor's shoulders and the sword held in his hand. Aeslin stood, a faint wonder in her eyes, as she looked to the familiar hilt that gleamed in the low light.

"The sword that was broken…" Elrond looked down to the weapon in his hand, just as it drew the gaze of his son. Aeslin looked up to Elrond's face. "You bring it to him? You take Aragorn the sword?" The Master of Rivendell nodded.

"It is her last hope. With this blade, and that which Arwen has uncovered, the race of men has a greater hope of victory." Beside Aeslin, Arwen stirred, drawing Aeslin's attention when she tried to sit. Immediately, her gray eyes landed on the sword in her father's hands. A smile came slowly to her face as Aeslin sat beside her, placing steadying hands around her shoulders.

"You reforged the sword." Her voice betrayed her weakness, causing Elrond's frown to deepen. "Good." She lifted her gaze to meet Elrond's, contentedly leaning against Aeslin.

"I shall depart then." Tearing his gaze away from his daughter with difficulty, Elrond fixed Aeslin with a stare. "Keep her alive, Aeslin. Keep her here, with us." Nodding, Aeslin turned to look down on her friend, whose dark head now rested against her shoulder. Laying a hand on his son's shoulder, Elrond bid Elladan farewell also before turning and leaving them without another word.

After a few more moments of tense silence, Elladan too departed, leaving Aeslin and Haldir alone with his sister. Exchanging a brief look with her husband, Aeslin coaxed Arwen to lie back again, letting her fall once again into a shallow sleep.

* * *

One day bled into the next, and then another passed by and still Arwen grew weaker. By the time Elrond returned from Dunharrow, Arwen could barely move. She often lay so still that there were moments when Aeslin feared she had passed on. Her skin grew thin and translucent while her gray eyes grew dull. Still, the days kept passing, and Arwen lingered on, waiting for finality, one way or another.

Aeslin rarely left her friend's side, drawing the concern of Haldir and Elrond for her own health. She was using whatever healing skill she could to bolster Arwen's condition and try to give her some comfort. But Arwen was far too weak, and Aeslin's efforts only served to drain her own energy. Eventually, Haldir and Elrond were forced to pull her away from Arwen's side. Haldir especially advocated this, for though their bond was still not as strong as it once was, he could feel just how weak his wife was getting.

So, one evening, once he noticed Aeslin had dozed off at Arwen's bedside, he picked her up and carried her back to their quarters. It was morning when she finally woke, and she was not pleased that Haldir had moved her. The Marchwarden, however, was not moved by her ire, especially knowing her reaction was driven by fear for her dearest friend.

"What if something has happened?" Haldir took her face in his hands, passing what calm and sympathy he could through their bond.

"Lord Elrond has taken over sitting by her side. Arwen has made her choice; there is little to be done but wait and hope that this darkness will end. You need to take more care, my Aeslin. I feel your concern for the sister of your heart. Now feel mine for you and our child. We can do no more for her, and trying will only bring risk to you." Aeslin sighed in helpless frustration, leaning against him as her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I fear giving up, Haldir." There was a great deal she left unsaid, but Haldir heard it anyway.

"You had no influence on Arwen's decision, Aeslin. Do not let Elladan's words haunt you, for he spoke out of fear. He does not believe what he said."

"Can you be so sure?" He held her tighter, resting his cheek against her silvery-blonde hair.

"He is like his father. He fears losing another of his family. But unlike Celebrian, should Arwen be parted from them, they will not see her again." Aeslin buried her face against his chest.

"I pray that does not come to pass too soon."

"As do we all."

* * *

Shortly after Elrond returned, word spread to Imladris that, thanks to the arrival of the Army of Rohan and that of the Dead, the Battle of Pelennor Fields was a victory, though one hard won; news of King Théoden's death was met with sorrow, especially by Aeslin; she had respected the King greatly, and was still grateful for his kindness. But despite the sorrow, the future began to brighten with the outcome of that single great battle. Still, though everyone breathed a sigh of relief, the worry did not subside. The One Ring still lingered, somewhere…

Everyone waited on finality, those in Imladris not least of all. Aeslin and her family took to spending their days in vigil at Arwen's side. The dark-haired elf-maid drifted in and out of consciousness, murmuring quietly every now and then as her gray eyes stared off into space. Elrond stood in the far corner, his eyes not leaving his daughter's still form for an instant, while her brothers sat nearby refusing to look for more than a moment, lest their grief take hold. Aeslin had resumed her seat at Arwen's side, though now she did little more than watch, taking Haldir's plea to heart. The Marchwarden sat close to his wife, the only one not focused solely on Arwen.

In the growing warmth of spring, the air was surprisingly cool that day, and little served to disrupt the silence. The quiet, though, was broken when Arwen stirred, her eyes roaming the room briefly before fixing on Aeslin. The healer, roused from the almost trance-like state she had sunk into, leaned forward, taking one of Arwen's cold hands in her own. The dark-haired elf smiled faintly.

"You do not have to watch me so. There is nothing you can do to help me." Aeslin tried to smile back, but found she could not manage it.

"That does not mean we will abandon you, Arwen. We could never do that." Arwen looked at Aeslin with consideration, her eyes brighter than they had been for days, now.

"Do not feel guilty, Aeslin. This was my doing," her voice began to trail off, her gaze shifting away to stare off into the distance again, as if watching for some far off sign, "I wish I could have seen him one last time." As she spoke, a single tear escaped from her eye as her wistful words passed her lips. Fear coursed through Aeslin, causing Haldir to jolt behind her and her family to tense as their own alarm took hold.

"No, Arwen, don't you dare give up. Did you not hear us tell you? He lives still; victory is closer than ever before. Do not let go now, not after you have held on so long." Arwen smiled sadly, but made no move to speak again.

Neither did she let go. Despite the alarming finality to her words, she continued to endure. Hours continued to pass, and the feeling that a conclusion was fast approaching was growing in the minds of those who waited.

Yet, despite the agony of waiting, some of the tension began to ebb. They were all beginning to accept that Arwen's fate was out of their hands. Aeslin retreated to sit by Haldir, gripping his hand tightly in her own while he laid the other around her shoulders, holding her close. The silence was monotonous, lulling them all into an almost trance-like limbo of anticipation.

The spell was finally broken when Arwen jerked, her gasp in the quiet surrounding her as loud as a shout. In an instant, Aeslin and Elrond both were at her side. Aeslin's heart pounded in fear as she took Arwen's hand into hers, terrified that the finality she feared was upon them.

As the two healers leaned over her, Arwen's eyes shot open, focusing first on Aeslin and then on Elrond. With a sound of disbelief escaping from her lips, Aeslin started to laugh quietly as colour flooded back into Arwen's flesh. Behind her Elladan and Elrohir jumped to their feet, identical expressions of hope blooming on their faces.

"It's over," Arwen breathed before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep. Tears of joy springing to her eyes, Aeslin reached out, grasping Elrond's arm as they exchanged a smile of relief. Turning, she looked first to Haldir, then to the brothers, her own voice breathless in elation.

"She recovers. I think she will be well." Laughing she embraced the brothers before falling into Haldir's embrace, weak with relief a long time coming. Elrond and his sons too embraced, the tension and worry fading from their faces. After a moment, they all edged out of the room, leaving Arwen to rest in peace. It was a long moment before Elrond spoke, his gaze distant and thoughtful, though there was a cheer in his eyes Aeslin had not seen in a very long time. When he finally looked up, his eyes glimmered with joy, a smile lighting up his entire face.

"It is indeed over. The darkness is destroyed. The One Ring and its Dark Lord are gone." His good spirits were infectious, and soon all of them were smiling, already able to feel the darkness that had infused Middle Earth for so long begin to lift.

"What's more," he continued, "I think we have need to go to Gondor. I do believe there is to be a King again."


	22. Chapter 21

**Of Finality, Of Joy**

The day dawned fair and the sun seemed to shine brighter than it had in many long years. The city of Minas Tirith gleamed white in the light that had come to suffuse Middle Earth since the destruction of the Ring. Indeed, there was little darkness to be found, while the only shadows to remain were those of remembrance and wishes that loved ones had lived to see the day turn and night fall away.

As Aragorn was crowned King Elessar before all of Gondor, Aeslin stood at Haldir's side, clothed in shimmering blue and silver, her mother's gems in her hair, almost wondering if she were caught in the midst of a dream. She exchanged a glance with her husband as their child moved within her, as if feeling the same joy shared by Aeslin, Haldir and every other person sharing in the celebration around them. On her other side stood Legolas, whole and well like she could have only hoped he'd be, resplendent in his Princely garb. That she had not lost her brother to the darkness was a miracle, as were a great many other things that had happened in the last tumultuous months.

Blossoms from the White Tree danced in the air, spreading their sweet scent to all as the newly crowned King of Gondor descended the stairs of the Citadel, greeting many as he passed. Finally he came to Legolas, who stepped forward to meet his friend. Reaching out, Aragorn clasped the elf's shoulder, receiving the same gesture in return as a quiet and heartfelt thank you passed the King's lips. With a small, wordless gesture, Legolas directed Aragorn's gaze past him. Looking past the Mirkwood Prince, he met Aeslin's gaze for a moment, confused, but glad to see her and the Marchwarden at her side nonetheless. Knowing full well what her brother had been doing, Aeslin also turned her gaze, directing the King to look past her.

Beyond the Mirkwood and Lorien elves stood the Rivendell elves, and among them, holding a pale banner bearing the White Tree, was Arwen revealing herself to Aragorn as the crowd of elves around her parted.

A hesitant smile on her face, she stepped forward after a moment, her gray eyes focused on Aragorn alone. A smile growing on her face, Aeslin watched as Aragorn pulled the banner from Arwen's hands before sweeping her up into a great kiss that earned a jubilant applause from every onlooker. Tears of joy coming to her eyes, Aeslin leaned against Haldir, her arm wrapping around his waist as Arwen wrapped her arms around her beloved, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she laughed with delight.

Elrond, who now stood beside Aeslin and Haldir, let out a long sigh. Glancing over to her teacher, her second father, really, Aeslin noticed his eyes bore sadness within them even though he beamed with pride and happiness. Reaching over, the healer took his hand, giving him a questioning look. Squeezing her hand, Elrond spoke, his voice low amid the shouts and cheers around them.

"Today is not a day for grieving, and so I do not think on the things that would cause sadness. I only wish that Celebrian were here to see the joy in our daughter's face, to experience this day."

"When you meet her again, she will. She will experience this day through you, and I think she will be happy knowing that Arwen found a love that endured so much darkness." Aeslin glanced down to where her hand resting on her growing belly, her voice thoughtful, "I know I would." After a moment Elrond laughed softly.

"I think you are right, daughter of my heart. Indeed, I think you are. She would be happy." He looked to his student. After a moment he laughed, drawing yet another questioning gaze from Aeslin.

"I keep forgetting that you are no longer my young student, Aeslin of Lorien. You have grown up. No more are you the serious little elfling that haunted my library, but now older, wiser and about to be a mother yourself. How the time passes."

Smiling, Aeslin turned to her Marchwarden, looking up at the face she knew better than any other. Sensing her attention, Haldir met her gaze, still astounded by the love he saw in her pale eyes.

"Yes, time does pass, and the passage of time brings many thing, change chief among them. But one thing I have learned is that some things are meant to endure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well folks, we made it. This Story is, both sadly and happily, complete. :')
> 
> I I want to genuinely thank everyone who read my little bit of fun, especially those who left their wonderful, encouraging comments, subscribed bookmarked and left Kudos. 
> 
> Your support is immensely humbling, really. This has been a lovely story to write and post!
> 
> One final note, regarding a sequel since it has been brought it up before, I have to say that I am not planning one, and truthfully have no intention of continuing this fic specifically. I feel like it is one of those stories where anymore would be too much. That being said, this is not my only LotR fic, though it is the first one I've finished. If you liked this story, I highly (and selfishly-teehee) encourage you to check out my other stories, including my other LotR story, "A Warrior's Heart" if you haven't already. It is linked with this story, only it is an Eomer/OC adventure. I also have another fic lounging about in my hardrive and my brain, waiting for a major rewrite. At this point, I am cautiously thinking it will (eventually) be completed, and will likely tie in with this one; same world/OC's, different focus and all that. It's focused on Legolas, so I'm sure his sister would show up at some point or another. :P
> 
> Additionally, there is a Bonus/Deleted Scene I have posted called The Tap that Shatters the Mountain that takes place during Chapter 12 of this story. All you have to do is hit the lovely little 'Next Chapter' button :) I hope, if you choose to read, you enjoy it!
> 
> Once again, Thank You from the bottom of my heart for reading! And to end this rather long note….
> 
> I sincerely hope you have all enjoyed this, and I hope our (virtual) paths cross again.
> 
> DarkLadyAthara


	23. Bonus Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deleted Scene: During her visit to Mirkwood, Aeslin learns more of the events surrounding the Battle of the Five Armies from her brother…including the fate of Tauriel. Takes place during the break in the middle of Chapter 12.

**The Tap that Shatters the Mountain**

"Barrels." Legolas nodded, his eyes twinkling at the incredulity in her voice. Aeslin wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. Off to the side Haldir stifled a smile of amusement. He was sitting on the other side of the room, allowing the siblings some time together. "They escaped Mirkwood in barrels."

"They had a hobbit with them, Baggins, I believe his name was, who evaded capture when we found them in the forest. He managed to sneak away the keys from the Guard on watch and broke the dwarves out." Aeslin couldn't help but laugh.

"I imagine Father was less than amused. He must have been livid." Legolas shrugged.

"At first, I suppose you could say he was; more bitter, really. Actually, I heard from Mithrandir later on that he ultimately found the whole episode rather amusing when he learned the particulars. Father even extended him welcome when the Halfling passed through Mirkwood with Gandalf on the journey west. Elf-friend, I think Father even named him. It sounds like the hobbit was of some help to Father before the Great Battle." Aeslin's mouth parted in bewilderment.

"I'm not sure I believe that, for I can barely imagine Father being amused, but very well. What happened to the dwarves after they escaped the cellars? I imagine they eventually washed ashore on the banks of the river." Legolas did not miss the faint cynicism in her voice, though for the moment he chose to ignore it.

"And from there to Laketown, though not before an orc pack set upon them on the river." Aeslin paled at her brother's words.

"An orc pack, here in Mirkwood? How is that possible?"

"It seems they were hunting Thorin and his company, to keep them from reaching the Lonely Mountain."

"It is hard to comprehend, I must admit. And Father—" He was shaking his head before she even finished her question.

"Tauriel, some of the other Rangers and I were following the dwarves. Had we not, we might not even have realized Bolg, spawn of Azog and his minions were within our borders. We captured one, who we—questioned," Aeslin couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. If she were to hazard a guess by her brother's tone alone, it had not gone well. But then her brow furrowed as what he said sunk in.

"You did not recapture the dwarves?" He shook his head.

"I was more concerned at that point about the orc pack running through our lands. Something was terribly wrong, Aeslin, and I was only then beginning to truly see it. The spiders were one thing, but orcs? We brought our prisoner back to Father. I could feel that there was something bigger stirring than a company of obstinate dwarves."

"What did you learn?" Legolas' eyes darkened at the question, his expression guarded and thoughtful.

"He spoke in riddles, of the flames of war and his master serving the One," Aeslin felt her blood run cold at her brother's words. Across the room Haldir straightened in his chair, his own expression thoughtful, though his eyes flashed in concern.

"What else?" There had to be more, though the healer wasn't sure she wanted to hear it. But Legolas sighed heavily, his brow furrowed with remembered frustration.

"We learned nothing else from the orc; Father killed him as the filth laughed." Aeslin's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Why? Why would he do that, it makes no sense." Legolas raised his eyes to hers, his pale gaze troubled.

"He said there was nothing more the orc could tell him, then he ordered the borders closed and the watch doubled, forbidding entry—or exit." There was something in his tone that felt like a stone in Aeslin's gut.

"You left."

"I followed Tauriel."

"She disobeyed Father?" Aeslin was stunned. Tauriel was barely older than Aeslin, and had practically worshiped their Father when last Aeslin had seen her. He had taken her into his court and under his protection upon the death of her parents, placing her in the guard when her skills as a huntress became known. A shadow of sorrow passed over Legolas' face, but in an instant it was hidden from her. "That does not sound like the Tauriel I knew," Aeslin finished, a trace of incredulity in her tone. She could barely wrap her head around the thought of the Silvan huntress doing something so reckless.

"I do not think she was the Tauriel you knew any longer. She rose quickly within the Guard, becoming a Captain at an unprecedented young age." That did not surprise Aeslin; Tauriel had always been incredibly driven, and had lived for the hunt. "But she grew discontent with Father, especially as she came to realize just how unconcerned he was becoming with events beyond our borders. She was not content to hide in the forests of our lands while darkness grew unchecked. She spoke often of rooting out the spiders from their nests in the Dark Fortress, but when she finally brought it up with Father…" Aeslin could imagine what their father had said as Legolas trailed off; he had been far more concerned with the safety of his realm alone for as long as she had memory, but she had heard that his isolationist mindset had only deepened in the years since she had left Mirkwood.

Mention of Dol Guldur brought an involuntary shudder, and Aeslin had to fight away a flicker of fear at mention of the ruins there; she knew what had lingered in the shadows of that accursed place. She remembered the feeling of dread that had prickled within her when she had glimpsed the dark mountain from the sunlit heights of Cerin Amroth. And she remembered too well the horrors Elrond and Galadriel had told her of when her mentor had appeared at the borders of Lorien with the Lady nearly drained of her power and dangerously weak. Beside her Legolas continued, barely noticing the way his sister paled. He was lost in memory, speaking almost without thought.

"She was right, Aeslin. Father would never have let orcs cross our borders and live in the past, yet he allowed them to do so. It troubled her greatly that Father had no care for what happened beyond the borders of our lands, beyond the forest. I had become complacent," his voice shifted, a flicker of shame coming to light in his eyes, "content to ignore the sickness festering within our lands, too wary of our father's wrath to question him where I should have. Father sent me out to bring her back. I had tried to convince her to return, but instead she convinced me to go with her; she helped me see what I had been blind to for so many years." Aeslin had laid a comforting hand on his arm as he spoke, watching him intently. His gaze focused, and after a moment his eyes met hers.

"She reminded me that, though Father would have it otherwise, we are still a part of this world, that evil shall grow unchecked if we choose to ignore it. That to do nothing would allow the darkness to win."

"You fell in love with her, didn't you." He must have expected her to realize it eventually for he did not react, though the flicker of sorrow returned to his eyes. The conclusion had been growing within her for a long time, even before she had left Mirkwood, but the cast his features took as he spoke of Tauriel waking him from his blindness toward the growing shadows of the Greenwood confirmed it in her eyes. Slowly he nodded. Aeslin leaned against him, letting her head rest against his shoulder. She could sense that there was only sorrow at the end of this story, but she needed to hear it through.

"And her feelings for you?" Legolas sighed heavily at the question. Aeslin already knew the answer.

"She knew—I could see it in her eyes—but she did not return my affections."

"Legolas, I am sorry." She lifted her head, watching him with sympathy. A faint fear kindled in her belly. He reached over the cover the hand she had wrapped around his bicep with his own.

"I am well enough, sister," he finally murmured, having seemingly read her thoughts. She impishly huffed a little at the way he could still do that, even after all this time. The effect was as she had hoped; a faint smile came to his face, his expression clearing a little. He knew what she feared; elves loved deeply, far deeper than any of the other races as she understood it. If his feelings for Tauriel were strong enough, they could destroy him. It was uncommon with unbonded love, as Legolas' was, although that it was unrequited could also prove dangerous…it still worried her.

"So you hunted the orcs on your own?" she finally asked, returning them to the story he had been telling her. He cleared his throat slightly, straightening a little where he sat. Aeslin stayed where she was, though, leaning against him with her arms tucked in the crook of his elbow.

"We followed them to Laketown, where we found them attacking the four dwarves who remained there. We engaged them ourselves, driving them off. I followed Bolg until he rejoined the rest of his pack before turning back." Again Aeslin frowned.

"Where was Tauriel, she did not follow with you?" Legolas hesitated, his gaze flicking to Aeslin for a split second.

"She stayed with the dwarves who remained in Laketown." Aeslin's frown deepened, but before she could question him further, he continued, "one had been hit by a morgul arrow, and was dying of the poison. She stayed to help, saving him with athelas." The healer in Aeslin approved, knowing well the power of the bright little plant.

"Then the Dragon came," he said quietly. The breath halted in Aeslin's chest, and if her blood had run cold before, it all but froze in her veins now. She jerked away, her eyes wide as they met his with shock and horror.

"You were in Esgaroth when Smaug the Destroyer woke?" Legolas looked to her cautiously. There were the beginnings of angry tears in her eyes. The fear and anguish on her face as she comprehended just how perilously close to dragon-fire her brother had been was nearly painful for Legolas to witness.

"Not exactly. I had been following Azog's spawn. I was away from The town when the Dragon emerged from the mountain." Recalled horror of his own darkened his features as he spoke then, describing the devastation that had followed in the dragon's wake and mixed feelings of relief and fear that followed the fire-drake's slaying at the hands of the bowman, now King Bard of Dale. Aeslin was entranced by his story. He told her how he and Tauriel had been about to return to Mirkwood when they received word that Tauriel was banished for disobeying Thranduil. She easily read between the lines here; he had disobeyed their father then, and had refused to leave the Silvan huntress.

She wasn't prepared for what he told her next. He then told her about his concern about where Bolg's orcs had originated and his journey to Gundabad with Tauriel. He was particularly grim when he related their discovery of an immense army massing to march on the Lonely Mountain, and how, upon their return to Dale, their father had wished to leave the dwarves and men to the mercy of that second army, sick as he was by the carnage wrought by the first.

Aeslin hadn't even realized she was trembling as Legolas spoke of visiting the orc country, only when his arm pulled from hers to wrap around her, tucking her close, did she realized how mention of the orc lands was affecting her.

"Naneth was killed there, wasn't she," Aeslin murmured, the fear and sadness in her voice reminding Legolas of when she had been little more than a child, learning that their mother was never to return to Mirkwood. He pulled her closer still, his head dipping to rest on the crown of her head. Through their bond Haldir poured comfort. She nearly smiled with affection at his restraint in not rushing to her side. As much as she loved that he desired to comfort her when her very heart ached, in that moment she needed her brother; she needed to share comfort with her only sibling, and she loved that Haldir recognized this. She could feel Legolas' pain at thought of their mother just as she knew he could feel hers.

"Yes, dear one. She was."

"I am not sure I need to hear anymore, brother," she said, her voice shaky. She had heard of the Battle from the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood themselves, and Legolas knew this. There were few in Middle Earth who did not know of the outcome. Somehow the Elves, men of Esgaroth and the Dwarves had rallied to fight side by side to defeat the armies of Orcs arrayed against them. Though, as the Lady had pointed out, had it not been for Gwaihir and his army of Great Eagles, the battle might very well have been lost. It had been a near victory, and dearly won. Thorin Oakenshield himself had been killed, as had his two nephews, effectively erasing his line. It had fallen to his cousin Dain to take up the Throne as King under the Mountain.

Aeslin obviously knew that her brother had survived, as had their Father, though she shuddered to think on it further. She knew how to fight—every Mirkwood elf was taught the skills of killing and battle—but she did not relish in it as many of her kind did. She was a healer; death caused nothing but pain to her heart.

Beside her, Legolas nodded sedately, but as she turned to look up at his face, she noticed with a start that the sorrow she had seen flickers of before now shadowed his features. At first she had believed the glimpses of such sorrow came from his unreturned feelings for Tauriel…but now? Dread once again clenched around her heart. Something more had happened during the battle, something that still weighed heavily on her brother's heart.

"Legolas, what have I not heard?" He looked to her again, obviously unsure how to say what he wished.

"The battle cost Tauriel her life," he finally said, his voice nearly emotionless in his effort to control his emotions. Aeslin's hands flew to her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. She had not known the Silvan elf so well as he had, but Aeslin had still counted her as a friend in a place where she'd had very few real friends. She wanted to ask how it happened, but she could not find the words. Legolas nevertheless saw the question in her eyes.

"She did not die in battle, though she died of it," he sighed at the pained confusion in her eyes. It was obviously immensely painful for him to remember.

"I told you that she had stayed with the dwarves in Esgaroth, healing one of them?" Aeslin nodded mutely, entranced with morose curiosity. "It was because of that dwarf that she left the court against Father's orders." Aeslin frowned in bewilderment, a small sound of disbelief escaping her. She had never quite understood the depth of the animosity between her race and that of the dwarves, and perhaps she was simply too young to understand, but nonetheless she couldn't fathom why Tauriel would do such a thing. Legolas nodded, understanding her confusion.

"His name was Kili, and he was the younger nephew of Thorin Oakenshield. She had fallen in love with him, Aeslin." The dread that had been pooling in her chest intensified.

"She fell in love with a dwarf?" Legolas nodded. It did not spark the reaction she might have anticipated; she didn't feel repugnance or distress, only sorrow.

"She even challenged Father because of him." Shock once again bloomed in Aeslin as he told her of the conversation between Tauriel and Thranduil about the impending ambush on Ravenhill. He said it was because of her stance and Legolas' support that Thranduil had remained in the battle. But more than shock, she found herself thinking on the Silvan huntress' words and actions with a sense of admiration, Aeslin realized with a small amount of pleasure. She couldn't help but feel immensely satisfied that Tauriel had stood up to the King of Mirkwood where many had quailed before him. Legolas went on to tell of how together they had gone to Ravenhill to warn the dwarves, and had found themselves locked in battle with the orcs of Gundabad.

But then her brother faltered. She knew what was coming next in his tale.

Stumbling over his words as Aeslin had never heard happen before, he told her how Tauriel had given everything she had to fighting Azog's spawn, only to witness Bolg's slaying of Kili, In her grief, he said, she had flung herself at the orc, pushing him from the cliff-face they had battled upon. The plummet didn't kill the orc, so it had fallen to Legolas to end Bolg; something he glossed over. She could tell from his voice that he still felt it was too little, to late.

"It took everything out of her," he said quietly, sorrow colouring his voice now more than ever. Tears were once again glistening on Aeslin's cheeks. "The viciousness of her fight against Bolg, the fall…the death of her dwarf…you will find that many here in Mirkwood believe she succumbed to the injuries she sustained during the battle, that our race's resilience wasn't enough to overcome her fall or the brutal fighting she endured."

"But you do not believe that." From his description of her fight with Bolg, the Lorien healer could easily see Tauriel having suffered any one of dozens of injuries that alone would have been potentially mortal to the Silvan huntress, especially a fall from such a height as Legolas estimated. But Aeslin's feelings told her otherwise. Legolas shook his head in response to her knowing statement.

"No. I heard her speaking to Father; she did truly love the dwarf, and I believe he did her; even Father recognized that, something I never would have imagined. I believe she would have been accepted back had she wished, that Father might have rescinded her banishment, but she was too broken; her spirit had shattered, Aeslin, as had her trust in her King and her country. Just as she lost faith in our home, I could not come back to Mirkwood then, either, so I took her with me when I left Ravenhill. She told me everything, dear sister, of her love, her pain, her sorrow. She didn't just mourn for her dwarf, but for the world, for our world, and the darkness that grows unchecked within it. Her love for the dwarf…his cruel death? It was the final tap against the rock-face that shatters the mountain."

"One morning I went to wake her to continue our journey, and she did not stir. She had departed our world." For the first time in all of her memory, Aeslin watched with grief as a tear escaped down her brother's stoic face.

There was nothing Aeslin could say.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you thought!


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